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IS 


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par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
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originaux  sont  ffilmte  an  commandant  par  la 
pramidra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
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la  darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  taila 
amprainta. 


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AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


or 


JOHN  GALT. 


H     ( 
y     S- 


I  WILL  A  ROUND  UNVARNISHED  TALE  DELIVER." 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 


t 


I 


■4- 


1     * 


i 


VOL.  L 

philadelphia, 
publkshp:d  by  key  and  biddle. 


J.   CLA.RKE,  PRINTER. 
1833. 


I« 


:  A" 


# 


Jyi 


1 


PREFACE 


This  Autobiography  does  not  consist  of  confessions,  but  only 
of  such  a  series  of  transactions  as  may  be  candidly  related. — 
Individuals  have  been  spoken  of  in  a  strain  which  the  Au- 
thor did  nut  find  pleasant,  and  it  would  have  been  more 
conLrenial  to  Ins  taste,  could  he  have  omitted  all  notice  of  them. 
In  several  cases  he  has  suppressed  names.  The  feelings 
and  recollections  associated  with  them,  unfortunately,  could 
not  be  suppressed ;  in  all,  however,  he  has  delivered  himself 
as  he  felt,  and  will  be  happy  to  receive  cause  to  retract  any  of 
his  animadversions. 

With  another  description  of  persons  he  has  not  been  less 
free ;  throughout  the  book  he  has,  to  use  an  old  proverb,  en- 
deavoured to  describe  the  ford  as  he  found  it,  and  to  treat  good 
and  evil  occurrences  with  equal  impartiality. 

It  is,  however,  not  in  human  nature,  to  speak  of  suffer- 
ing and  misfortune  with  the  same  equanimity  as  of  friend- 
ship and  favour  but  if  it  shall  be  thought  that  his  sentiments 
in  latter  years  towards  the  world  are  less  gracious  than  those 
of  earlier  times,  let  it  be  recollected  in  mitigation  of  the 
severity  of  criticism,  that  he  has  not  been  able  to  front  adver- 
sity, and  has  had  a  larger  experience  of  its 
'  Iron  scourge,  and  torturing  hour.' 

In  proceeding  with  the  narrative  he  is  very  sensible  of  hav- 
ing neglected,  apparently,  many  persons  by  whom  he  has  been 
greatly  obliged,  but  they  must  see,  themselves,  that  he  could 
not  mention  their  names  without  referring  to  incidents,  which 
however,  a  biographer  may  think  himself  warranted  to  ex- 
plore, the  writer  of  his  own  memoirs  may  be  excused  for  not 
bringing  forward.    He  cannot  say  more  without,  in  the  opinion 


^m 


11 


h     ' 


IV 

of  the  judicious,  violating  propriety.  'I'lic  innn  nlio  hasj^jvpn 
hostages  to  society,  18  bound  to  respect  flicir  fcclinjjs  quite  a» 
much  as  his  own. 

The  printing  of  the  b(jok  had  proceeded  some  lengtli  befor<^ 
it  occurred  to  him,  that,  })erhaps,  several  «^entlenien  to  whom 
he  has  alluded  by  name,  niig-ht  not  be  satisfied  with  seeing 
themselves  so  plac^ed  before  the  public.  But  he  can  mako 
no  other  ajxjlogy  fur  the  liberty  he  has  inadvtjrtently  taken, 
than  by  stating  the  trutii,  which  is,  that  having  only  good  to 
say  of  them,  it  did  not  at  first  occur  to  him,  that  in  doing  so 
lie  was  committing'  any  error.  Besides,  some  sort  of  ex- 
tenuation of  the  tault  m.iy  bo  allowed,  when  it  is  recollected 
that  it  was  made  as  a  final  exi)ression  and  testimony  to  their 
worth. — Had  he  then  been  as  well  as  he  is  now,  he  would 
probably  have  been  more  guarded  ;  as  it  is,  however,  nothing 
could  be  further  from  his  thoughts  than  to  give  olfence.  He 
only  refers  to  the  circumstance  here,  because  the  respectable 
in  private  life  do  not  like  to  be  drawn  from  the  shelter  of 
seclusion.  He  recollects  how  much  he  was  once  affected, 
when  a  young  man,  at  seeing  himself  alluded  to  by  name,  in 
a  biographical  sketch,  though  it  was  evidently  done  in  kind- 
ness :  he  judges  of  the  feelings  of  others  by  his  own. 

There  is  a  more  serious  charge  which  may  be  brought 
against  him,  than  that  of  speaking  gvatoluUy  of  those  who  may 
not  themselves  like  it.  It  is  in  saying  so  umch  about  him- 
self; but  it  was  a  task  imposed  by  the  nature  of  the  work, 
and  not  a  matter  in  which  he  had  any  choice.  Egotism  is 
at  all  times  an  odious  habit;  though  it  is  but  a  habit  after 
all:  could  it  have  been  avoided  in  an  autobiography,  it  cer- 
tainly would  have  had  no  place  here,  even  though  the  author 
had  possessed  the  alchemy  of  converting  seeming  vanity  into 
any  thing  so  pure  and  precious  as  naivete.  He  hopes,  how- 
ever, he  has  not  oflTended  in  what  he  has  said  of  himself,  be- 
yond the  good-natured  reader's  indulgence ;  for  on  all  occa- 
sions he  has  attempted  to  show  that  he  was  aware  of  the 
light  in  which  egotistical  garrulity  might  bo  considered,  even 
by  the  liveliest,  awake  to  its  vanity  and  weakness. 


I 


T* 


(V.) 

He  deprecates  the  animadversions  to  which  the  work  is  lia- 
ble for  many  other  faults,  besides  those  which  are  derived 
from  defects  inherent  in  tlie  author.  When  it  was  commen- 
ced, he  was  afflicted  to  a  very  great  degree,  by  the  infirmity, 
which  has  probably  rendered  him  an  invalid  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life.  Ho  could  neither  write  nor  read  the  manuscript 
himself;  many  of  the  proof  sheets  he  was  unable  to  correct, 
and  mistakes,  which  may  be  observed  in  them,  have  escaped 
detection  in  the  process  of  hearing  the  press-work  only  read 
over.  His  amanuensis  was  a  bov,  save  when  some  accidental 
friendly  visitor  was  good  enough  to  take  the  pen. — The  errors 
however,  are  less  owing  to  a  want  of  proper  respect  for  the 
public,  than  to  the  circumstances  of  his  condition ;  for  al- 
though he  complains  of  being  a  feeble  cripple,  and  that  his 
"right  hand  has  lost  its  cunning,"  his  ails  are  not  circumscri- 
bed to  these  afflictions." 

His  habits  wore  ar-tive,  princ  to  motion  and,  perhaps 
from  the  sedentary  change  induced,  he  endures  more  than 
can  well  be  conceived  by  those  who  have  their  impatience 
in  better  discipline.  His  acutest  sense  of  calamity  arises  from 
his  inability  to  employ  himself  in  other  pursuits  than  in 
those  of  literature ;  and  he  very  earnestly  prays  that  the 
reader  may  not  have  reason  to  sympathise  with  his  lamenta- 
tions on  that  account.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  mis- 
eries of  being  suddenly  transmuted  from  activity,  into  the 
passive  inertness  of  wearisome  inability  to  perform,  unassist- 
ed, the  commonest  actions.  It  is  only  not  so  dreadful  as 
the  state  of  the  Siamese,  with  the  corpse  of  his  brother  on 
his  back,  but  worse  than  the  shackling  of  the  living  and  the 
dead  together ;  for,  in  that  eastern  torture,  the  spirit  feels 
not  the  incarceration  which  makes  the  imprisoning  flesh  more 
dismal  than  fetters  or  chains. 

Though,  like  all  men,  he  has  tasted  the  bitterness  of  the 
world,  yet  in  speaking  of  those  by  whom  he  has  not  been 
conciliated  to  regard  the  human  race  as  better  than  they  re- 
ally are,  he  hopes,  that  it  will  not  appear  he  has  indulged 
in   much  acrimony.      Hs  principles  incline  him  to  consider 


MM 


(vi.) 

tho  vices  as  morbid  Becrotions  of  t'lc  moral  constitution  — 
the   workinu^s  ofori<jfinil  sin, — and  surely  the  victims  of  dis- 
ease ought    rather  to  bo   viewed   witli   compassion  than  as 
objects  of  iiate  and   detestation.     But  no  man  likes  to  asso- 
ciate witli  a  snake,  and  he  may,    in  consequence,   at  tnnes 
have    forgotten  his  creed,  und  used   expressions  of  resent- 
ment that  derive  no  beauty  from   energy,   nor   virtue  from 
their  accordance  with  the  errors  of  humanity.     But  in  sad  se- 
riousness he  considers   the   penalties,   which   society  inflict 
for  aberrations,  abundantly  known  to  those  who  incur  them. 
Their  inethcacy  to  accomplish  correction,  proves  the   invet- 
eracy of  the   disease,  which  may  be  either  mnato,  accidental, 
or  chronic.     No  man  can  change  his  appearance   by  volun- 
tary  resolution  ;  ho  can  only  improve  it  a  little  by  discipline ; 
and  with  the  mind  it  is  as  with  the  body,  we  cannot  alter  the 
Btructure,  but  its   vigour  may  be  increased  by  training,  or  its 
complexion  rendered  more  delicate  by  study.     He  would  ra- 
ther remember  wrongs  with  comniissoration,  than  ruminate 
on   vindictive  tiioughts,  both    naturally  and  from   principle  : 
and  yet  perhaps  he  lias  not   lived  so  long,  without  having  re- 
ceived some  cause  to  justify  more  sullenness  towards  mankind 

The  memoir  terminates  with  his  last  imminent  illness 
but  though  it  was  undoubtedly  an  epochal  event,  it  has  not 
been  followed  by  such  a  change  in  his  habits,  as  it  might  have 
becii  supposed  to  have  produced  ;  it  has  however,  obliged  him 
to  have  recourse  to  dictation ;  in  other  respects,  as  the  pre- 
sent work  demonstrates,  it  has  not  greatly  affected  his  famili- 
arity with  the  reader. 

September  12th,  1833. 


THE  SEPARATE  WORKS  OF   JOHN  GALT. 


Those  with  a  *  are  anonymous. 


No.  of  Vols. 
1 


3d 


Dramas  published  in 


*  The  Battle  of  Larffs 
Voyages  and  Travels;  4to. 
Letters  from  the  Levant ;  8vo. 
Life  and  Administration  of  Cardinal  Wolsey  ;  4to 

Edit.  8vo.  .  .  .  . 

Maddalen 
Agamenmon 
Lady  Macbeth    . 
Antonia 
Clytemnestra 
Lit(3  of  Benjamin  West,  published  in  Two  Parts. 

*  Tlie  Majolo,  published  separately 
* 'I'he  Witness,  a  Drama 
The  Watchhouse,  a  Farce 

The  Mermaid,  a  Drama 

*  Orpheus,  an  Opera 

*  The  Mascjuerade,  a  Comedy 

*  The  Prophetess,  a  Drama 

*  The  Sorceress,         do. 

*  The  Apostate,  do. 
*The  Hector,  a  Cento 
*The  W^ord  of  Honour,  a  Comedy  I 

*  I.jove,  Honour,  and  Interest,  do.    J 

*  Edward  HI.,  a  Historical  Play. 
Historical  Pictures 

The  Wandering   Jew 

N.  B.  Published  by  Souter,  as  by  the  Rev.  Mr.'  Clarke! 
The  initials  of  the  last  sentences  are,  "  This  book  was 
written  by  John  Gait." 


1 
1 


1 
2 


Published  in  the  New 
British  Theatre. 


2 
1 


1 


(viii) 

No.  of  Vols. 

An  Abridgement  of  Modern  Travels  in  Asia,  (under  the 

name  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clarke) 
In  Stevenson's  Lives  of  the  Admirals  :— 

♦The  Life  of  Admiral  liawke. 

♦The  Life  of  Admiral  Byron,  revised  by  Lord  Byron. 

*  The  Life  of  Admiral  Rodney. 

Children's  Books : — 

*  The  Rocking'  Horse. 

*  Gog  and  Magog. 

♦  The  Crusade,  a  Poem.            ....  1 
♦The  Earthquake               ....  3 

♦  The  Ayrshire  Legatees          ,            .            .            .  1 

♦  The  Annals  of  the  Parish            ...  1 

♦  The  Provost               .....  1 

♦  The  Steam  Boat                ....  1 

♦  Sir  Andrew  Wylie        .            .            .            .          .  3 

♦  The  Entail               .....  3 

♦  The  Gathering  of  the  West        .            .            .        .  1 

♦  The  Last  of  the  Lairds            ....  1 

♦  The   Omen          .                ....  1 
♦Ringham  Gilha'ze            .            .             .            .         .  3 

♦  The  Spaewife            .....  3 

♦  Rothelan            .             .            .            ,            .          .  3 
Laurie  Todd            .            .            .            .              .  3 

Southennan        ......  .M 

Bogle  Corbet  ....  .3 

Stanley  Buxton            .            ,            ,            ,            .  3 

Eben  Erskine            .            .            .            .            .        .  3 

The  Stolen  Child           .....  1 

The  Lives  of  the  Players                .            .            .        .  2 

The  Life  of  Lord  Byron             ....  1 

♦The  Life  of  William  Spence,  prefixed  to  his  Essay  on 

Logarithmic  Transccndants        .        .         .         -        .  1 
Ouranoulogos,  or  celestial  volume  illustrated  by  Mr.  Martin.   1 

The  Member            .            .            .            .            .        .  1 

The  Radical                            .            .            .            .  1 

N.  B. — These  are  all  I  recollect.  The  greatest  part  are 
anonymous ;  besides  three  pamphlets,  one  on  the  trade  in 
the  West   Indies  and  our  North  American  colonies.     "  The 

"  Speech  not   Spoken,"  and  "  Cursory    Remarks."     A  vast 


York. 


CONTENTS. 


EPOCH  FIRST. 
CHAPTER  I. 


Puire. 


Introdiii'tinn. —  niilli. — Removal  toCJrPonock. — Early ac- 
cidenls. — Passion  for  llowerr^. — The  Buclumites. — 
A  ^raiid  procession  at  Kilnrirnock  for  the  Duchess  of 
Portland  and  Lady  Canning  -        -        -        -        1 

CHAPTER  H. 

A  View  of  tho  Falls  of  Niajrara. — A  storm. — Predilec- 
tion f(jr  books. — Liout.  (iuolihind, — A  schoolmaster. — 
Lord  Boyle. — Mr.  Eckford,  of  New  York. — Marion 
<  'raw lord.— Mr.  Eckford's  death        -        .        .        -        tJ 

CHAPTER  HL 

Gardenino-. — Temper. — Opposition  to  my  Studies. — Me- 
chanical taste. —  Music, — Schemes  and  projects         -       11 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Attachment   to  Greenock. — Mr.    Park. — Of  his  accom- 
plishments.— Displeased  with  him         -  -      Id 

CHAPTER  V. 

Mr.  Ewing-. — Strange  dream. — Subsequent  calamities. — 
A  first  attempt  at  verse-making. — Mr.  Miller's  Gar- 
land.— His  pompous  language  -        -        -        -      19 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Residence  at  Greenock. — Tour  to  Edinburgh. — Excursion  to 
Durham. — Mrs.  Siddons 24 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Page 


Town  library. —  Locking'-up  of  books. — A  plot. — The  re- 
call of  the  books. — Corps  of  sharp-shooters. — Rejec- 
tion.— Resolutions  thereon. — Godwin's  Polital  Justice. 
— Origin  of  moral  sentiments  -        -        -        -      27 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Monthly  Society. — Nature  of  the  lipeculations.— A  poem 
by  Park. — An  (xle. — Tlie  Greenock  Advertiser. — Con- 
tributions.—The  editor.—The  Battle  of  Hohenlinden. — 
Campbell. — The  Pleasures  ot  Hope  -        -        -      32 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Course  of  reading. — A  great  victory. — Gothic  Antiqui- 
ties.— Ode, — Tragedy  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. — 
Works  illustrative  of  Scottish  History      -        -        -      39 

CHAPTER  X. 

Conclusion  of  the  first  epoch 42 


m 


SECOND   EPOCH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Introductory  letters. — Scarcely  of  any  use. — Discover  a 
partner. — Tlie  result 45 

CHAPTER  II. 

Six  months   in    London. — Change  of  Character. — First 
publication. — Gotliic  poem. — Battle  of  Largs. — Criti- 
cisms.— Mysteries. — Diplomacy. — Suppression  of  the 
Poem 4S 

CHAPTER  IIJ. 

An  amiable  trait  of  human  nature. — Anecdote  of  Lord 
Erskine. — Mr.  Archibald  Thompson,  the  engineer. — 
Singular  instance  of  gratitude  -        ...      54 


,s 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


Page 


27 


CHAPTER  IV. 


32 


39 


42 


45 


48 


54 


M 


4  ■. 


Studies  ill  London. — Family  histories. — Metaphysical 
observations. — Crimes  and  punishments 

CHAPTER  V. 


Page 
57 


Crimes  and  sins. — How  considered  by  legislatures. — They 
are  diseases. — Effects  of  the  French  Revolution 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Free  trade. — Differ  from  the  government  plans. — An  ac- 
cident with  respect  to  Upper  Canada         .        -        - 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Embarraa«5ments  in  business. — Go  to  Greenock. — Return 
to  London. — An  interview. — Meeting  of  correspon- 
dent's creditors  called. — Support  from  Mr.  Gemmel 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  meeting. — Attempt  at  relief. — Failure. — Singular 
trait  of  generosity 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Renewal  of  business. — Farce  of  the  Watch-house. — An 
occurrence. — Brother  established  at  Honduras. — Enter 
of  Lincoln's  Inn. — Go  abroad. — Reflections 


THIRD   EPOCH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

First  meetmg  with  Byron. — Land  at  Cagliari. — Dine 
with  the  Ambassador. — Byron's  crandiloquent  thanks 
to  him. — Byron  and  llobhou.se  wait  in  the  packet  to  be 
saluted  at  Malta. — Guns  sulky. — Byron  and  Ilobhouse 
reduced  to  a  state  of  beggary. — Relieved  by  Mr.  Cha- 
bot. — HospituUty  of  the  Maltese  merchants 

CHAPTER  n. 

Statistical  account  of  Sicily. — Visits  to  Mr.  Fagan. — Stu- 
dy of  Anti(piities. — Refused  permission  to  go  to  Rome: 
—An  eclogue 


61 


63 


67 


72 


76 


79 


85 


-* 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Page 


Banquet  in  Palermo. — Character  of  the  Sicilians. — San 
to  Stephano. — an  hospitable  archbishop. — Remark  of 
his  grace. — His  establishment. — A  prison  for  convicts. 
Crossed  from  Sicily  to  Malta  in  an  open  boat  -      90 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Take  passage  forSpezzia. — A  storm  — Anchor  at  Valona, 
—Albanians. — A  puppy  Turk. — The  Secretary's  sala- 
ry.—An  adventure         -        .        -        -        -        -        95 

CHAPTEK  V. 

Leave  Patras  for  Corinth. — Aspect  of  the  landscape  re- 
sembles the  Firth  of  Clyde  seen  from  Bishopton  Hill. 
— From  Corintii  to  Tripolizza. — Scheme  of  counter- 
actins  the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees  first  conceived. — 
Meet  a  descendant  of  the  Paleologi. — The  history  and 
extinction   of   the   family    in   England. — Proceed  to 

Athens 100 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Athens. — Reside  at  a  Monastery. — Meet  again  Lord  By- 
ron and  Mr.  Hobhouse. — Unprofitable  industry. — Coin- 
cidence.— Ode,  suggested  by  the  state  of  Greece  106 

CHAPTER  VH. 

Elgin  marbles. — The  Atheniad  -        -        .        .       109 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

Hydra. — Zea. — Scios. — Measure  a  brass  cannon. — Sim- 
plicity of  the  Turks       119 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Ephesus. — Cherubims. — Sailed   for  Samos. — Myconi. —  ' 
House  there. — Malta. — Resolved  to  return  to  the  Le- 
vant.— A  note 121 

CHAPTER  X. 

Land  at  Cerigo. — British  soldiers  in  the  blue  devils. — 
Hospitalities.— Land  among  the  Mainots. — Negocia- 
tions 124 


■  -ft 
9k 


■,.yrr 

f 


CONTENTS. 


XUl 


CHAPTER  XL 


Page 


128 


Tripolizza. — Athens. — Drinks  of  the  Castalian  Spring. — 
Fatal  effects. — Nearly  immortalized  in  Thermopylffi. — 
Much  to  do  about  nothing.— Slingers  in  Pompey's 
army. — Darissa. — An  ode. — Vale  of  Tempe. — Thesea- 
lonica  ----_->- 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Constantinople. — Excursion   to  Nicomedia. — Stay   with 
a  Turkish  gentleman. — Ladies  of  the  harem. — A  jour- 
ney.— A  bishop      -------      132 

CHAPTER  XIII 

V'ilhi  Pasha. — A  vizier's  camp. — Fallacy  of  continental 
armies. — Incapability  of  the  Ottomans  for  war.        -      135 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

An  Adventure. — Reflections.         -        -        -        .        .  138 

CHAPTER  XV. 

VViddin. — Inquiries. — Pasha's  dragoman. — Visit  to  the 
pasha. — Intrigues. — Visit  lo  the  Russian  camp        -      140 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  romantic  adventure. — Leave  Widdin. — Vexation  in  a 
cottage. — The  old  bishop  of  Sophia. — A  mysterious  ad- 
venture.— Return  to  Christendom. — Missolonghi. — In- 
dustry in  the  Lazaretto  of  Messina.        -        -        -       146 
CHAPTER  XVII. 

iSiirduua. — A  visit  from  the  Ru-ssian  ambassador. — Go  to 
(jibnillar. — Thence  to  (^ork. —  State  of  crime  in  Ire- 
land.— Proceed  home. — End  of  the  Third  Epoch.      -     151 


EPOCH    FOURTH. 

CHAPTER  [. 

Perindical  estimates. — Abandon  the  intention  of  studying 
the  hw.-- Also  ihe  Levantscheme. — Publish  travels. — 
Renew  ac'iuaintance  vv'ith  Lord  Byron.        -        -     -     156 


XIV 


I 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Page 

Critiques  on  Travels. — Brother's  opinion. — Political  pre- 
dictions.— Their  fulfilment,        .        -        -        ..  I6(l 

CHAPTER  III. 

Transit  trade  through  Turkey. — Go  back  to  Cibraltar. — 
London. — Marry. — Adventure  with  Mrs.  Mary  Ann 
Clarke. 165 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Interview  with  Mrs!.  Clarke. — Peruse  her  papers. — Ad- 
vise her  to  suppress  her  publication. — Some  account  of 
her. — Her  separation  from  tiie  Duke  of  York.      -    -     169 

CHAPTER  V. 

Death  of  my  brother. —  A  legacy. — A  lawsuit — Hasten- 
ing on  the  end  of  the  world,  ....       173 

CHAPTER  VI, 

Excursion  to  France. — Stop  at  Rouen. — Paris. — Conver- 
sazione,— Royal  performance  at  the  Theatre. — Brus- 
.sels. — Holland. — Tlie  Imperial  Russian  Princes.      -      176 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Talk  of  a  third  thcntre. — A  tragic  event. — The  Rejected 
Theatre. — New  British  Theatre.— Performance  of  the 
Appeal.— Sir  Walter  Scott's  play.         -         -         -     .    179 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Hector  i  cento  in  the  New  British  Theatre.         -        -    188 

CHAPTER  IX. 

<  'aledonian  Asylum. —  A  sordid  tran.saction.— Go  to  Green- 
ock.— Return  to  London. 185 

CHAPTER  X. 

Reflections. — Agent  for  the  Canada  claims. — Correspon- 
dence with  the  Treasury. — Interview  at  Fife  House. — 
Arrangement, — Not  carried  info  effect. — Go  to  Scot- 
land.— Answer  from  Canada. — Further  proceedings.    .  188 


.?», 

'.'4- 


■J- 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Page 
16(1 


CHAPTER  XI. 


169 


Page 


176 


The  arrival  of  an  Indian  chief. — His  business. — The 
Duke  of  Norlhiiinberland  interested  in  it. — His  Grace 
sends  Colonel  Talbot  to  the  Colonial  Office. — Promise 
of  the  business  being  amicably  settled.        -        -     -     192 

CHAPTER  XII. 

*  "ourte^y  of  the  Colonial  dcjjartnient. — Party  spirit  in 
(.'anada. — The  secret  resolutions  of  the  Commissioners. 
— Character  of  correspondence. — Origin  of  the  Canada 
('om|)any. — Case. 197 

E  1»  O  C  H    F  I  F  T  H  . 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Canada  Company. — Original  view. — Embark  in  the 
Romiiey  man-of-war. — Journey  tiirough  the  state  of 
New  York. — Civilities  of  the  Americans. — Reach  Up- 
ner  Canada. 202 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  II. 


185 


188 


CHAPTER  II. 

An  act  of  justice. — Civility  of  the  newspaper  editors. — 
Finishing  of  the  Commission. — Return. 

CHAPTER  III. 

Proposal. — The  Clergy  Corporation  of  Upper  Canada 
interfere. — The  commissioners  ])ut  on  their  deience. — 
A  new  bargain. — Dextrous  manonivre  of  Archdeacon 
Strachan. — Appointed  to  go  to  America. 


f) 


9 


"  t 


;'. 


I^'N 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 


Transactions  with  Mr.  Rolfe. — Liberality  of  Government. 
— Alien  question. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Trip  to  Dover — to  France, — Adventure  there. — Return 

to  England. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Anxieties. — Determination  of  the  Canadian  Directors. — 
Judicious  resolution. — The  Omen. — Local  memory. — 
Curious  instances. 

CHAPTER  Vil. 

The  death  of  my  mother. — Reflections. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Emigration  practically  considered. — Mr.  llorton's  plan. — 
A  suggestion  concerning  a  fund  for  emigration. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Letters  from  Dr.  Strachan. — Letter  to  Sir  P.  Maitland. 
the  lieutenant-governor. — Sail  for  America. 

EPOCH   SIXTH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Reflections.— Unprovided  for  difficulties.— Presentiments. 
Arrival  at  New  York. — News  from  the  Consul. — At 
Geneva. — At  Batavia. — BufFaloe.— Canada  newspapers. 
Conduct  of  Mr.  Rolfe.  Arrival.  V^^ait  on  the  Gover- 
nor.— Consequences. 

CHAPTER  n. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  % 

CHAPTER  HI. 

«  %  )((  tft  ^i  :^  % 


Pu 


n^ 


12 


Ky 


IH 


22 


24 


28 


30 


■;-♦-, 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


CHAPTER  V. 


18 

22 


24 


2S 


30 


■f 


At  Quebec— Attentions  from  tlie  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Dalhousie. — Mention  to  his  Lordship  my  reception  in 
(Jpper  Canada. — Business. — An  Amateur  theatre. — 
Keturn  to  Upper  Canada. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Inquiries  respecting- the  climate  of  Lower  Canada. — Veg- 
etation under  the  snow. — Another  local  phenomenon. — 
Floating- ice  in  the  river.     Cross  the  river. 

CHAPTER  Vn. 

A  project. — Means  of  effecting-  it. — The  turning  of  the 
river  St.  Lawrence. — Motives  for  the  work 

CHAPTER   VHL 

Cause  of  my  soliciting  the  superintendency. — My  situa- 
tion.— Accomodations. — Invidious  remark. — Coloniza- 
tion— My  system — Plan  of  buildings. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  founding  of  Guelph 

CHAPTER    X. 

Plan  of  taking  payments  in  produce. — Apply  for  a  valua- 
ble grant  of  land  to  the  government,  and  obtain  it 

CHAPTER   XI. 
Voyage  on  Lake  Huron 

CHAPTER  XH. 

A  stipulation  in  the  Company's  contract  with  Govern- 
ment.—Curious  stratagem.— Reflections.— Visit  Guelph. 
Visitors. — Exploring  the  Grand  River. — Return  to 
York 

CHAPTER  Xin. 

Remove  to  Burlington  Bay. — La  Guayrian  emigrants. 
Festival  at  Guelph. — Reflection       .       -        -       - 


Page 


3.:-) 


38 


44 


46 


51 


5(5 


60 


71 


75 


« 


XVlll 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
EPOCH    SEVENTH. 
CHAPTER  1. 

Retlcctions. — Troubles. — Colonelcy  of  Militia. — Fancy 
Ball. — Private  notice  of  a  coming  reprimand. — Inter- 
view with  Sir  Peregrine  Maitland. — Send  in  my  resig- 
nation.—the  colonelcy  suspended        -        -        -        •     ^i 

CHAPTER  H. 

Perplexititj?. — Extend  my  knowledge  of  the  Americans. 
— A  farce. — Arrival  of  my  family. — Inquiries. — Re- 
moval to  Gucl|)li. — Cardinal  Weld. — Rumours  of  the 
Company  breaking  up. — Arrival  of  the  Accountant     -     86 

CHAPTER  HI. 

The  Accounlunt. — Incivility  of  the  Directors  for  favours 
granted.-'Openingof  the  road  to  Lake  Huron. — Sick- 
ness of  the  labourers. — Quarrel  with  the  Accountant. 
—  Final  determination  to  return  to  England         -        -    92 

CHAPTER  IV. 

New  rumours  of  the  Company  breaking  up. — Strange 
conduct  of  the  directors. — Payment  due  to  Govern- 
ment.— No  money. — Resolution. —  Effects. — Mr.  Fel- 
lows' report, — The  directors  of  the  Canada  Company 
allow  a  hill  for  cash  received  to  be  protested.         -       -     98 

CHAPTER  V. 

Acquisition  of  knowledge. — x\ncient  fortifications. — Dig- 
ging a  well  in  a  rock. — A  funereal  urn. — Natural  phe- 
nomena.— A  vast  tree 106 

CHAPTER    VI. 
New  articles  of  export. — Operations. — intentions. — A  dis- 
covery         110 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Resume  personal  narrative. — Journey  to  Lake  Huron. — 
Lost  ourselves  at  midnight  in  the  Forest,  sixty  miles 
from  a  known  habitation. — Alarming  adventure. — 
Scene  at  Goderich. — Adieu. 114 


•I' 


.'  .'ill. 


CONIENTrf. 


.\'|X 


Ml 


86 


02 


98 


106 


110 


CHAPTB]R  Vlll. 


Page 


Speak  of  departure. — Conduct  of  the  Settlers. — Leave 
(luelph. — Letter  in  my  bclialf  from  the  Lieutenant  Gov- 
ernor to  the  Secretary  of  State. — Reacli  New  York. — 
Ilearinpr  of  my  beinjn;- superceded. — Arrival  at  Liver- 
pool.— Reach  London. — Consequencet?         -        -  119 

CHAPTER  LX. 


A    letter   from  my  sister. — Her    arrival  in   London.- 
Troubles 


124 


128 


-  r\2 


EPOCH  EIGHTH. 

CHAPTER  L 

Lawne  Todd. — Southonnan. — Think  of  emigratiniT. — 
Two  kindly  circumstances. — Life  of  Lord  Byron. 

CHAPTER  IL 

Doubts  of  Byron's  originality.— Plagiarisms  from  Pick- 
ersgill. — Plagiarisms  complained  of  by  Mr.  Moore. — 
Verses  by  Mr.  Moore 

CHAPTER   HI. 

Incidental  fracas  with  Sir  John  Cam  Hobhouse.  Pot  - 
Versus  kettle.-  His  appearance  in  Eraser's  shop. — 
The  Countess  Guiccioli 14 

CHAPTER  IV. 

IvJitor  of  the  Courier. — Politics  of  ilie  pr.per. — Whigs 
and  Tories.-Qualitiesof  ii  newspappr  editor.-x'Yuthors   -  144 

CHAPi'ER  V. 

Visitation  of  infirmity.— Go  to  Cheltenham. — Lives  of 
the  Flayers        -        -        - 148 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Bogle  Corbet.— A]  hision  to  Sir  Walter  Scott.— Estimate.  152 

CHAPTER  VIF. 
Ueflections  on  my  own  works.  ....        ifi^j 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
164 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Continued.— Annals  of  the  Parish.— Provost. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Obligations  to  Mr.  Blackvvood.-The  Life  of  Mr.  West. 
—Origin.— His  lectures.— Origin  of  the  Mermaid.— 
The  Witness.— A  player's  anecdote.        -        -        -    17^* 

CHAPTER  X. 

Sense  of  diseas;.-  Abridged  means  of  knowledge.- Rise 
of  Canad.i  n  stock.— Joint  stock  companies.—Class  of 
persons  to  whom  udnpted.— Fallacy  as  to  interest.— 
Their  objects.— The  objects  of  commerce.— Kind  ot 
superabundant  population.— Begin  agam  to  scheme.       175 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Relax  m  literary  pnrsuits.-Works.-Of  the  Member 
and  Radical.— Dedication  of  the  latter.        -        -     -     1  '-' 

CHAPTER  XII. 

183 
Schemes  and  projects. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Tontines.— Plan  of  emancipation  for  the  slaves,— Scheme 
of  colonial  curroncy.— Leirislative  reform.         -        -     1^*^ 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  constellation  ani  a  planet.  -        -        ■        ' 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Origin  of  the  interview  botwoon  Sir  Andrew  Wylic  and 
Kinff  Geor're  Third;  with  anecdotes  of  other  members 
of  the  royal  family.         -        -        -        " 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

,,       ,     •  ....--     '202 

Conclusion.        -        -  ^.^.p 

Appendix.        ---"""" 


m 


lti4 


it. 


170 


se 
of 


THE 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


or 


JOHN  GALT 


of 


175 


EPOCH    FIRST. 


>er 


- 

I'^O 

- 

183 

me 

- 

IBw 

192 

mid 

)ers 

19f> 

'202 

. 

207 

CHAPTER  I. 

Introduction.  Birth.  Removal  to  Greenock.  Early  acci- 
dents. Passion  for  flowers.  The  Buchanites.  A  grand 
procession  at  Kilmarnock  for  the  Duchess  of  Portland 
and  Lady  Canning. 

It  is  certainly  not  a  very  gentlemanly  occupation  to  write 
one's  own  life ;  "  ray  poverty  not  my  will  consents"  to  the 
egotistical  undertaking ;  at  the  same  time,  my  actual  adven- 
tures are  as  likely  to  amuse  the  reader  as  the  incidents  of 
any  fiction  which  has  hitherto  escaped  from  my  pen. 

I  have  always  understood  that  Irvine  in  Ayrshire  was  my 
birth-place,  and  that  the  event  happened  on  the  2d  of  May, 
1779;  in  confirmation,  my  earliest  recollections  relate  to  that 
town.  Every  year,  it  is  true,  I  was  carried  to  Greenock  for 
a  short  time,  but  my  home  was  in  Irvine  till  1789-90,  when  my 
permanent  removal  came  to  pass. 

Of  this  first  epoch  I  do  not  recollect  much  worth  relating, 
but  memory  occasionally  carries  me  back  to  transactions  that 

A 


% 


THE    AUTOBIOORAPHY     OF 


must  hare  happened  when  I  v;aa  very  young,  lera  than  two 
years  of  age,  and  yet  I  have  not  a  very  good  general  raemory. 
Of  local  circumstances,  however,  I  have  never  met  with  any 
person  who  had  a  superior  graphic  recollection,  and  what  I  do 
remember,  appears  to  me  more  of  a  pictorial  nature  than  that 
catalogue  of  occurrences  which  make  up  the  memory  of  most 
men.  As  an  instance,  when  not  much  more  than  a  year  old, 
I  perfectly  at  this  day  rccal  to  mind  an  incident  sufficiently 
childish  in  itself,  but  illustrative  of  this  peculiar  faculty. 

In  the  kitchen  of  my  grandmother  the  hearth  rose  con- 
siderably higher  than  the  floor.  It  happened  that  a  cousin 
who  was  about  six  months  older,  received  with  me  a  present 
of  a  little  stool.  Nothing  would  serve  us  but  we  must  sit  in 
our  new  fanglednoss  upon  these  stools  on  the  raised  hearth. 
Accordingly  they  were  placed  there,  and  in  our  glee  we  be- 
gan to  push  one  another  by  the  feet  as  we  sat  on  our  elevated 
platform.  In  this  work  somehow  the  fir&,  on  which  stood  a 
tea-kettle,  was  disordered,  and  caused  it  to  spout  out;  I  in 
attempting  to  rscnpe  from  liie  jet  d'eau,  fell  over  the  hearth 
backwards,  and  the  kettle  scalded  my  cousin's  legs,  producing 
as  Tmay  be  supjKjsed,  screams  and  uproar.  The  scene,  the  cause 
and  the  shape  of  tiie  kettle  are  still  before  me.  Other  remin- 
iscences of  about  the  same  time  are  as  vivid,  but  the  date  of 
none  is  so  distinct.  The  era  is  fixed  so  early  as  some 
where  between  my  first  aiid  second  year,  because  my  sister 
was  not  then  born.  Indeed  her  birth  is  marked  in  njy  re- 
membrance, by  a  terrible  accident  of  the  like  sort.  She  was 
born  in  Greenock,  and  her  birth  is  hallowed  to  me  by  the 
accident.  I  was  then  there,  and  at  the  time  in  the  custody  of 
some  one,  standinj]^  on  the  kitchen  dresser,  caressed  and  cares- 
sing, when  the  event  was  proclaimed  to  "all  the  house." — 
Whoever  had  charge  of  me  forgot  I  was  on  the  dresser,  and 
leaving  me  there,  ran  into  the  passage  to  hear  the  news  more 
particularly.  Well  do  I  recollect  my  horror  at  being  so  aban- 
doned ;  I  looked  over  the  edge  f  the  dresser  as  Shakespear 
makes  Edgar  look  over  the  clifTat  Dover,  and  seeing  my  peril- 
ous height,  roared  and  ramped  and  stamped  "as  il  were  a 
nightingale"  till  removed. 


JOHN   UALT. 


8 


Those  two  circumstances  stand  so  limn^l  and  bright  in  my 
romernbranco,  tliat  I  could  bear  testimuny  to  tIjpJr  occurrence 
on  oath  btifore  any  judicature,  although  they  have  hem  follow- 
ed by  no  ellects,  further  than  as  proofr  of  that  fsingular  lt»osl 
memory  for  wliich  I  have  among  !ny  u  nds  boon  distin- 
guisliod,  and  which  has  ever  continued  to 

"(irow  with  my  growth  and  etrongthen  wi(h  my  strength." 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1783  a  trivial  incident  had  on  me 
for  many  years  great  influence.  One  morning,  as  I  was  play- 
ing in  the  garden,  very  early,  among  other  things  I  observed 
with  surprise  the  heads  of  the  narcissus  peering  above  ground. 
I  have  no  recollection  of  the  cause  that  led  me  to  remark  the 
circimistance,  but  it  dwelt  on  my  memory.  In  the  course  of 
a  few  days  alter  I  was  taken  to  Greenock,  where  I  remained 
some  weeks,  and  on  my  return  to  Irvine  it  was  late  when  we 
arrived.  Next  morning,  liowever,  1  got  out  of  bed  by  break 
of  day  and  hurried  into  the  garden,  when,  instead  of  the 
sprouting  plants,  lo !  they  were  in  blossom ;  and  I  could  not 
persuade  myself  that  they  were  not  lilies  brought  from  a  dis- 
tance and  planted  in  the  beds. 

The  phenomenon  excited  my  curiosity ;  from  that  day  and 
long  alter  I  became  passionately  fond  of  flowers,  and  derived 
inexpressible  pleasure  from  their  development  in  the  culture ; 
latterly  the  taste  gave  way  to  a  predilection  for  trees  and 
shrubs  :  but  an  accident  afterwards  put  an  end  to  both. 

Soon  after  my  wonderment  at  the  lilies  was  over,  a  very  odd 
business  occurred  at  Irvine,  memorable  in  the  history  of  sects. 
I  allude  to  the  rise  of  the  Buchanites,  of  whom  at  thie  early 
age  I  became  a  follower,  understanding  as  much  of  their  creed 
as  the  generality  of  the  serious  professors.     The  story  is  this- 

Mr.  White,  the  Relief  minister  of  Irvine,  being  called  to 
assist  at  the  sacrament  in  Glasgow,  where  a  Mrs.  Buchan  had 
an  opportunity  of  hearing  him,  so  delighted  her  by  his  oratory 
that  she  wrote  to  him  that  he  was  the  first  minister  who  had 
spoken  effectually  to  her  sinful  heart;  expressing,  at  the  same 
time,  a  wish  to  visit  him  at  Irvine,  that  she  might  be  further 
confirmed  in  the  faith. 


^- 


4  .  THE    AITOBIOORAPIIY   OF 

Ho  8liowed  her  letter  with  clerical  vanity  to  some  of  his 
people,  who  gave  her  a  very  welcome  reception  and  consider- 
ed her  as  a  woman  of  great  gifts,  llcligion  was  the  constant 
theme  of  her  loquacity,  and  her  time  was  spent  in  visiting 
from  house  to  house,  in  making  family  worship,  and  in  ex- 
pounding the  Scriptures;  but  some  of  the  congregation  began 
to  doubt  the  trutli  of  tlie  gospel  according  to  Mrs.  Buchan. 
Mr.  White,  the  Relief  minister,  however,  implicitly  credited 
her  crthfxloxy;  but  the  Relief  congregation  expressed  their 
dissatisfaction  with  his  ministry,  and  required  her  dismissal  as 
a  dangerous  person.  He  refused,  they  threatened,  but  he  re- 
mained as  firm  in  his  delusion  as  Mr.  Edward  Trvmg  himself. 
By  the  proceedings  which  the  infidels  adopted,  Mr.  White 
was  ultimately  deposed  from  his  office  as  minister ;  neverthe- 
less he  peacefully  delivered  up  "  the  keys  of  the  kirk"  and 
preached  in  a  tent. 

The  curiosity  of  the  public  was  excited ;  strange  accounts 
were  given  of  the  doctrine  and  manner  of  worship  among  the 
Buchanites.  They  usually  met  in  the  night-time  and  were 
iti|tructed  by  the  prophetess.  She  gave  herself  out  to  be  the 
woman  spoken  of  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the  Revelations, 
and  that  Mr.  White  was  the  man-child  she  had  brought  forth. 
These  and  other  ravings  drew  upon  her  and  her  party  the 
indignation  of  the  populace.  The  house  of  Mr.  White  was 
gutted  by  a  mob,  and  repeated  applications  from  the  members 
of  the  Relief  congregation  to  proceed  against  her  as  a  blas- 
phemer and  "  an  odious  schismatic,"  caused  the  magistrates  to 
dismiss  her  from  the  town. — To  protect  her  from  insult  they, 
however,  accompanied  her  about  a  mile,  and  forty  or  fifty  fol- 
lowers proceeded  with  her  singing  psalms  as  they  went 
shouting  and  saying  they  were  going  to  new  Jerusalem. 

I  with  many  other  children  also  accompanied  her,  but  my 
mother  in  a  state  of  distraction  pursued  and  drew  me  back 
by  the  lug  and  the  horn.  I  have  not  the  slightest  recollec- 
tion of  Mrs.  Buchan's  heresies, — how  could  I? — but  the 
scene  and  more  than  once  tiie  enthusiasm  of  the  psalm  singing 


\l 


?ri 


-  'y^^it 


JOHN   (JALT. 


5^ 


lias  risen  on  my  remembrance,  especially  in  describing  the  Gov 
enanters  in  Ringaa  Gilhaize.  ;  ,         . 

From  liiat  time,  altiiough  I  have  vivid  recollections  of  ma- 
ny things,  yet  the  reader  would  not  care  about  hearing  of 
them,  especially  as  they  are  introduced  in  my  novels,  but  I 
should  not  omit  an  event  which  has  had  a  singular  influence 
on  my  conduct  through  life. 

When  the  present  Duchess  of  Portland  and  Lady  Canning 
were  girls,  the  executors  of  their  father  bought  all  the  lands 
in  the  neighbourhood  ot  Kilmarnock,  the  estate  now  of  the 
duke  of  Portland.  The  young  ladies  were  brought  to  see 
the  purchase,  and  those 


"WIm  lefUlxT   lax  niul  draw, 
Ol'  all  d.'iiominaiions," 


liuuN.-^ 


got  Up  the  procession  of  King  Crispin  for  their  gratification. 
It  was  certainly  very  grand ;  the  only  procession  I  ever  saw 
in  any  degree  comparable  to  that  was  the  coronation  of  King 
George  the  Fourth,  which,  however,  in  my  opinion,  was,  at 
this  distance  of  time,  no  more  equal  to  it  than  a  kitten  to  a 
Kilkenny  cat.  It  is  time,  however,  that  I  should  conclude 
this  chapter,  for  the  event  to  be  recorded  is  too  much  of,|n 
epochal  nature  to  be  crammed  in  at  the  fag  end. 


•  .  r  S 


A  1 


6 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


CHAPTER  II. 

View  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara.     A   Storm.     Predilection 
or  books.     Lieut.    Gucliland.      A  schoolmaster.      Lord 

liotjle.     Mr.  Echford,  of  New  Yorh.     Marion  Crawford. 

Mr.  Eckford^s  death. 

Kilmarnock  is  about  six  miles  from  Irvine,  and  I  was  car- 
1  ied  there  to  see  the  show.  In  the  relation's  house  lo  which 
I  was  taken,  lay  a  folio  which  contained  many  pictures, 
and  among  them  a  view  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  It  was  the 
Wildest  sight  I  had  ever  seen,  and  my  juvenile  imagination 
was  fully  excited. 

n^etween  the  procession  and  this  picture  I  was  prodigious- 
ly interested,  continually  going  out  and  in;  never  had  any 
thiiior  produced  on  mo  such  an  effect;  1  lost  all  recollection, 
and  totally  forgot  that  I  looked  "  but  on  a  stool,"  nor  could 
I  conceive  any  thing  more  wild  and  wonderful  than  that 
view.  Often  and  often  since  it  has  risen  upon  my  recollec- 
tion, and  when  in  after  life  at  the  Falls,  I  fancied  myself  on 
the  very  spot  below  the  town  of  Manchester  on  the  Amer- 
ican side  from  which  the  drawing  had  been  taken. 

From  the  lime  of  this  visit  to  Kilmarnock  till  finally  re- 
moved from  Irvine  I  have  no  very  particular  recollection, 
except  of  a  storm  at  sea,  of  which  a  description  is  given  in 
" The  PRovost  "  ;  but  I  was  a  soft,  ailing  and  growing  boy. 
I  have  no  remembrance  of  th.o  enjoyment  of  perfect  health 
for  several  years,  and  yet  I  was  not  ill ;  a  sort  of  "  all-over- 
ishness" hung  about  me,  and  when  not  engaged  with  my 
flowers  I  lounged  on  my  bed,  which  gave  me  a  kind  of  lit- 


>»  • 


JOHN  OALT. 


erary  predilection :  all  sorts  of  ballads  and  story-books  were 
accumulated  by  me,  and  some  of  them  have  left  inipressiona 
that  still  remain  fresh  and  unfaded. 

This  infirm  state  led  me  not  only-  to  avoid  the  hearty  ex- 
ercises of  other  boys,  but  to  seek  indoor  amusement  that 
was,  had  it  been  observed,  remarkable  in  one  so  young.  I 
remember  that  there  were  a  number  of  old  women  who 
lived  in  the  close  behind  my  grandmother's  house,  and  in 
their  society  to  hear  their  tales  and  legends  I  was  a  frequent 
visitor.  One  ofthemwasthe  mother  of  Lieutenant  Gueli- 
land  who  was  a  flag-officer  to  Lord  Nelson,  and  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar.  He  was  older  than  me,  and  I  do  not  re- 
collect him  very  well,  but  he  was  a  brave  and  intelligent 
officer  ;  his  townsmen  have  erected  a  monument  to  his  mem- 
ory in  the  church,  and  I  have  the  gratification  to  record  that 
I  obtained  for  his  only  sister  a  munificent  donation  from  the 
patriotic  Fund  formed  during  the  war  at   Lloyd's. 

Another  of  them  was  an  old  widow,  bent  into  a  hoop  ;  she 
had  an  only  son,  but  he  was  gone  from  her  long  before  my 
time,  and  she  lived  a  lonely  life.  With  this  friendless  aged 
woman  I  was  a  great  favourite,  and  exceedingly  attached  to 
her,  for  she  had  many  kindly  qualities  that  won  upon  an  in- 
firm boy's  best  affiictions.  She  has  often  since  served  me 
as  a  model ;  not  that  her  actual  state  has  been  depicted  by  me, 
but  1  have  imagined  her  in  situations  that  were  calculated 
to  bring  out  her  character.  She  was  very  poor,  and  spun 
out  her  low  and  wintry  existence  by  her  rock  and  tow.  I  have 
often  assisted  her  to  reel  her  pirns,  and  enjoyed  strange 
pleasure  in  the  narratives  of  her  life  and  privations. — It  gives 
me  a  sort  of  melancholy  pleasure  to  record  that  her  latter 
days  were  tempered  in  their  sterility  by  the  kindness  of  my 
aunt  and  cousins.  I  have  never  inquired,  even  to  this  hour, 
if  she  merited  so  much  regard. 

There  was  another  old  woman,  a  relation,  that  I  was  also 
very  partial* to  ;  her  husband  was  blind,  and  she  herself  had 
some  brimstone  notions  of  religion,  but  much  in  her  circum- 
stances excited  at  once  both  compassion  and  laughter.  When 


8 


THE    AUTODIOGRAPHY   OF 


many  years  after  I  heard  of  lier  death,  I  well  recollect  say- 
ing, in  a  letter  written  to  my  aunt  on  the  occasion,  in  the  words 
of  Henry  the  Fifth  on  the  death  of  Sir  John  Fulstaff,  that 

"  I  could  have  better  spared  a  belter  man." 

She  was  one  of  those  plausible  sybils  that  juggled  in  my  morn- 
ning  path.  -  , 

One  thing  should  not  be  forgotten  ;  owing  to  my  growth 
and  consequent  ailment  I  made  comparatively  little  progress 
in  my  education,  but  1  had  a  very  clear  idea  of  what  I  did 
learn,  and  never  afterwards  forgot  it. —Among  other  expedi- 
ents to  counteract  my  infirmity  was  being  sent  in  the  eve- 
ning privately  to  taiie  lessons  in  reading  from  tlie  schoolmas- 
ter. In  this  task,  which  was  desultorily  executed  I  read  with 
him  the  Spectator  and  Gil  Bias,  and  as  I  have  never  read 
either  since,  1  am  led  to  conclude  that  in  those  conclave  in- 
structions, I  evinced  something  of  intelligence  :  when  I  left 
him  he  made  me  a  present  of  Goldsmith's  Roman  History. — 
Nevertheless  my  progress  during  1788  and  89  was  not  equal 
to  my  companion's,  and  yet  the  schools  of  Irvine  were  par- 
ticularly good.  The  present  Lord  Justice  Clerk,  Lord  Boyle, 
left  the  grammar  school  in  the  same  year  that  I  entered  it. 
He  was  at  that  time  a  very  sensitive  lad,  and  our  schoolmas- 
ter spoke  of  him  with  approbation,  not  for  talent,  but  his  sen- 
sibility to  any  matter  wherein  he  conceived  himself  wrong  or 
fault  was  imputed  to  him.  Generally,  indeed,  my  schoolfel- 
lows have  turned  out  well,  and  some  of  them  have  meritori- 
ously attained  distinction.  Among  others  was  the  late  Mr. 
Eckford,  of  New  York*.  He  learned  to  be  a  ship-carpenter, 
and  early  went  abroad  with  the  reputation,  even,  then,  of 
talent ;  but  I  recal  him  to  recollection  by  a  very  affecting 
story. 

At  that  time  in  Irvine  were  several  children  from  the  East 
Indies,  among  them  a  girl  called  Marion  Crawford,  with 
singularly  beautiful  long  black  hair,  and  that  composed  char- 
acter of  physiognomy  which  is  supposed  by  the   Italians  to 


m 


*  I  do  not  mention  names  particularly,  because  I  know  not  if  they  would 
like  it,  but  lb(»e  men  belong  to  tlic  imblic. 


JOHN   GALT. 


d 


be  particularly  characteristic  of  the  Mailonna.  Between  her 
and  Eckford  a  mutual  attachment  grew  up  until  it  became 
known  to  all  the  town,  and  was  even  respected  by  the  school- 
boys. Eckford  was  older  than  me,  but  I  remember  the  cir- 
cumstance very  perfectly.    Ah  ! 

'■  Tlie  course  of  true  love  novor  did  run  sinooUi." 

Henry  Eckford  and  Marion  Crawford  were  not  destined  to 
be  an  exception  to  the  rule  of  fortune.  He  went  abroad,  and 
she,  poor  creature,  was  lately  living  forlorn  in  single  bles- 
sedness. 

This  Mr.  Eckford  became  afterwards  the  grand  architect 
and  builder  of  the  American  navy,*  and  accumulated  a  vast 
fortune.  1  siiall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  mention  hovv  we 
met,  but  his  fortune  made  him  the  prey  of  designing  men;  and 
he  was  inveigled  on  account  of  his  wealth  by  a  party  to  join 
in  some  public  scheme.  When  T  first  met  him  he  was  then 
flourishing  in  prosperity,  and  had  sent  his  son  with  a  tutor 
to  make  the  tour  of  Europe. 

Some  sinister  trick  in  the  management  of  the  company 
made  him  responsible  for  all  his  fortune;  a  legislative  inves- 
tigation by  the  State  of  New  York  was  instituted  to  exam- 
ine the  circumstances,  and  though  Eckford  lost  his  fortune 
he  was  honourably  acquitted.  He  sent  me  to  Canada  cop- 
ies of  the  proceedings,  and  I  was  glad  and  sorrowful  at  the 
result ;  glad  of  his  acquittal  and  sorrowful  for  his  fate. 

His  son,  however,  returned  to  him  ;  but  as  if  misfortune 
had,  after  a  career  of  great  splendour,  marked  him  for  her 
particular  prey,  the  young  man  in  attempting  to  save  his 
sister  was  with  her  burnt  to  death. 

I  saw  Eckford  after  this  calamitous  event,  and  we  had  a 
good  deal  of  schoolboy  conversation  respecting  hiraseU.    He 


*  It  is  not  detractinu  from  the  real  merit  of  Mr.  Eckford  to  denjr^ie  ac- 
cnrary  of  tills  assertion.  Niimernus  vessels,  both  in  ilie  public  and  mCTcan- 
tile  marine,  built  under  his  dirfciion  in  the  shipyards  in  New  York,  are 
evidence  of  his  sitill  in  naval  architecture.  But  no  person  would  pretend  to 
arrogate  forhini  the  merit  of  similar  works  in  the  shipyards  of  the  other 
cities  of  tlie  Union.— Editor, 


10 


THE    AlTOnlOORAPHY   OF 


had  then  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  the  United  States,  but 
had  not  decided  in  what  direction  to  move.  I  mentioned  to 
him  Russia,  offerinjf  hiin  a  letter ;  but  he  had  decided  on 
no  particular  place.  Allerwards  ho  went  to  Constantino- 
ple, where  the  dockyards  were  put  under  his  superintendence, 
and  he  was  treated  bv  the  Sultan  with  uncommon  conde- 
scension  and  confidence.  He  died,  however,  soon;  his  body 
was  carried  to  New  York,  where  it  was  mterred  vvitii  par- 
ticular distinction.  . 

The  circumstance  which  induces  me  to  mention  him  here 
was,  that  among- other  early  recollections  he  inquired, -in  the 
conversation  alludod  to,  it  J.  had  any  remembrance  of  Mari- 
on Crawford.  There  was  something  in  the  topics  of  our 
conversation  and  his  manner  that  rendered  the  question  af- 
ecting;  but  I  could  give  him  no  other  answer  than  by  mention- 
ing that  1  believed  she  was  still  alive  and  unmarried.  Forty 
years  had  elapsed  since  he  had  seen  her.  It  has  ever  seemed 
to  me  that  there  was  something  pathetic  in  his  inquiry.  I 
have  often  since  thought  of  it ;  for  he  remarked  that  strange 
changes  happen  in  life.  It  was  so  with  himself,  for  he  who 
had  reached  the  very  summit  of  prosperity  was  then  again 
as  poor  as  Miss  Crawford  ;  but  there  was  a  consciousness 
about  him  that  he  was  destined  to  die  no  ordinary  man. 


m 


JOIIN    OALT. 


u 


CHAPTER  III. 


My  gardening.     Temper.     Opposition  to  my  studies, 
chanical  taste.     Music.     Schemes  and  projects. 


Me- 


ag'am 


My  removal  to  Greenock  was  neither  heralded  nor  attended 
by  comets  or  eclipses ;  I  forget  every  thing  about  it,  ex- 
cept that  the  family  took  up  their  abode  in  a  new  house  which 
my  father  had  built  and  roy  sister  still  inhabits  ;  attached  was 
a  garden,  in  the  decorations  of  which  my  taste  for  flowers 
suffered  no  interruption.  For  several  years  it  afforded  me 
agreeable  employment,  and  I  still  recollect  with  pleasure  the 
aspect  of  the  borders  when  the  sun  was  shining  and  the  air 
clear. 

At  the  schools  if  I  was  not  considered  a  dull  boy  I  cer- 
tainly made  no  particular  progress.  That  softness  of  dis- 
position which  arose  from  languor  was  perhaps  not  so  re- 
markable there  as  at  Irvine,  for  1  recollect  my  experience  of 
increased  vigour.  It  never  however  acquired  at  Greenock 
the  epithet  of  equanimity,  such  as  I  afterwards  enjoyed  in 
the  world,  but  it  does  not  reflect  much  honour  on  the  discern- 
ment of  many  about  me,  that  its  equal  nature  was  not 
perceived. — Softness  of  disposition  does  not  always  index  an 
oven  temper,  nor  was  mine  of  this  description.  It  was  even- 
ness of  mind  rather  than  of  temper,  with  decision  of  char- 
acter, slow  manifesting  itself,  but  surprising  when  it  did  so. 
For  a  number  of  years  I  pride  myself  on  recollecting  many 
<riuraphsof  temper,  but  alas  !  I  can  do  so  no  longer,  the  vi- 
cissitudes of  life  have  mastered  forbearance,  and  made  me  at 
lea^t  as  irascible  as  my  neighbours. 


« 


12 


THE   AUTOBIOORAPIIY   OF 


My  removal  to  Greenock  was  to  the  individual  an  impor- 
tant era ;  I  felt,  notwithstanding  my  slow  progress  in  school 
studies,  a  budding  of  faculties  that  afterwards  came  to  leaf, 
and  I  may  say  to  some  blossom,  although  the  fruit  has  never 
set. 

The  greatest  drawback  however  to  be  encountered,  arose 
from  my  mother  ;  she  could  not  endure  to  see  my  sleepy  na- 
ture, and  ascribed  t  to  my  predilection  for  books,  of  which  it 
was  but  an  effect,  not  the  cause.  In  afler  life,  when  she  was 
old  and  circumstances  had  changed,  she  confessed  her  error  : 
but  it  cannot  be  accounted  for  in  a  woman  so  remarkably  en- 
dowed. My  father  was  one  of  the  best,  as  he  was  one  of  the 
handsomest  men,  but  he  was  of  an  easy  nature,  with  only 
passable  ability,  in  which  however  probity  was  predominant. 
My  mother  was  however  a  very  singular  person ;  posses- 
sing a  masculine  strength  of  character,  with  great  natural 
humour,  and  a  keen  perception  of  the  ridiculous  in  others. — 
In  her  prime,  as  I  would  call  it,  she  indulged  in  queer  meta- 
phorical expressions,  exceedingly  forcible  and  original.  In 
latter  life  this  grew  so  much  into  a  habit,  that  her  talk  to 
strangers  must  have  seemed  often  fantastical.  The  rich  ore 
of  common  sense,  however,  which  pervaded  her  observations 
was  always  remarkable,  and  frequently  extorted  an  instanta- 
neous assent  to  her  opmions,  while  they  provoked  irrepressi- 
ble laughter. 

Under  her  superintendence  I  undoubtedly  made  great  mo- 
ral proficiency  ;  I  can  trace  innumerable  instances  of  the  ben- 
efits derived  from  her  advice,  but  she  was  angrily  averse 
to  my  bookish  propensities,  and  until  I  left  the  shelter  of  the 
maternal  wing  never  ceased  to  condemn  my  drowsy  studies. 
The  passion  for  reading  derived  food  from  the  public  libra- 
ry, a  selection  of  books  formed  with  uncommon  judgment 
and  taste.  The  useful  predomiiiates  in  the  collection,  and 
to  this  circumstance,  probably,  should  be  attributed  my  habit- 
ual partiality  for  works  of  a  solid  character.  I  dare  not  ven- 
ture to  call  it  better  than  a  habit. 

While  yet  at  school  I  had  a  bias  for  mechanics,  which 


JOHN  OaLT. 


18 


which 


an  observant  master  might  have  turned  to  some  account. — 
Among  other  things,  1  attempted  to  make  a  piano-forte, 
alias  a  hurdy*gurdy,  in  a  box,  and  waa  magnificent  in  shows. 
The  managers  of  the  puppet  pageants  at  Drury  Lane  and  Co- 
vent  Garden  might  have  taken  a  lesson  from  me  in  a  won- 
derful edephusicon  that  I  got  up  after  seeing  Lulherburg's  ex- 
hibition. But  the  most  successful  of  all  my  devices  was  an 
Eolian  harp,  which  was  occasionally  shown  off  im  the  staircase 
window,  particularly  when  my  mother  happened  to  be  ab- 
sent, for  its  mournful  melody  put  her  in  the  vapours,  as  she 
said,  and  I  was  obliged  to  give  away  the  "  wind  organ"  to 
a  school/ellow. 

To  these  tuneful  experiments  succeeded  the  solitary  study 
of  music,  by  an  attempt  to  teach  myself  the  flute.  I  was  led 
to  this  by  the  example  of  a  companion,  the  late  William 
Spence,  author  of  the  "  Essay  on  Logarithmic  Transcendents," 
which  Sir  J.  Herschell  aflervvards  edited,  a  work  of  great 
research,  ingenuity,  and  originality. 

Speijce,  besides  being  a  most  delicious  performer  was  a  con- 
siderable composer,  and  made  beautiful  sonnatas,  which  had  as 
much  character  as  the  compositions  of  Frederick  the  Great, 
King  of  Prussia.  I  too  was  a  composer,  but  never  got  in 
practice  beyond  playing  duets  with  Spence ;  somehow  I  al- 
ways became  too  agitated:  in  the  overture,  however,  to  Ar- 
taxerxes  I  used  to  be  rather  above  par,  and  there  was  a  beau- 
tiful movement  of  Jomelii  in  which  I  thought  myself  divine. 
Afterwards  I  heard  it  performed  in  London,  in  the  ghost 
scene  of  the  Castle  Spectre,  and  it  affected  me  so  much  thfiC 
many  around  must  have  thought  me  very  silly. 

My  compositions  at  Greenock  Idare  say  were  bad  onough, 
but  aflerwards,  when  T  came  to  London  and  heard  better  thinjis, 
those  made  there  were  not  utterly  despicable.  The  reader 
however  may  judge  for  himself,  as  I  havo  subjoined  to  this 
work  some  of  my  song#  that  have  been  published,  one  of 
them,  "Lochnagcr,"  to  the  words  of  Lord  Byron,  was  deem- 
ed of  such  excellence  that  I  heard  it  grinding  on  a  street  organ. 
The  air  was  given  away,  and  published  to  some  advantage. 

B 


^1 


14 


THE    AVTOBIOQRAPHY   OF 


Besides  these  indoor  occupations  I  was  a  sort  of  a  fisher, 
but  never  distinguished.  The  scene  of  my  reveries  was  a 
considerable  stream  in  the  moors  behind  the  mountains  above 
the  town.  It  has  since  been  brought  round  the  shoulder  of 
the  hill,  and  having  been  damned  up,  it  now  b}^  a  canal  gives 
to  the  town  a  valuable  water  power.  Among  my  fishing 
dreams  this  very  improvement,  in  a  different  manner,  wa« 
one  of  the  earliest. 

The  town  of  Greenock  is  supplied  with  water  from  res- 
ervoirs on  the  heights  behind.  In  dry  weather  these  dams 
or  tanks  sometimes  became  exhausted,  and  it  happened  once 
in  my  time  that  one  of  them  nearly  dried  up.  It  was  observed, 
however,  that  a  small  rill  of  pellucid  water  continued  undi- 
minished to  run  into  it.  The  magistrates  on  seeing  this,  on 
the  same  principle  that  the  boy  in  the  fable  killed  the  goose 
that  laid  him  the  golden  eggs,  I  suppose,  ordered  the  spring 
to  be  explored  by  digging,  when  it  was  discovered  to  issue 
from  an  artificial  cave.  I  explored  the  excavation  myself 
to  a  great  depth  in  the  mountain,  and  ascertained  that  it 
was  a  drain  to  a  mine.  This  led  me  to  examine  the  place, 
and  on  the  top  of  the  hill  I  discovered  that  a  shad  or  pit  had 
penetrated  the  mountain  formerly  to  the  drain ;  afterwards  I 
traced  an  ancient  road  on  the  hill,  and  something  at  a  lower 
reservoir  like  a  bridge  across  a  ravine.  I  never  heard  or 
read  any  account  of  these  works,  but  the  discovery  of  them 
eel  me  a  hatciiing,  and  I  brought  forth  to  myself  a  notable 
plan,  no  otiier  than  to  tunnel  the  mountain  by  the  drain  and 
lead  inio  it  "  the  Sliaws  water,"  for  exactly  the  same  pur- 
pose as  the  canal  hab  been  since  executed.  Whether  the  cost 
of  tunoelling  would  not  iiave  been  greater  than  the  canal  I 
cannot  say,  but  the  circumstauce  is  mentioned  here  to  show 
to  what  obje^.ts  my  mind  was  early  turned.  I  have  never 
seen  the  canal. 

In  the  Frith,  opposite  to  Greenock,  there  is  a  large  sand 
bank  often  dry  at  low  water.  When  it  was  proposed  to  en- 
large the  harbour  it  occurred  to  me  that  this  bank  might 
be  converted  into  land,  and  I  have  still  a  very  cheap  and 


JOHN  OALT. 


10 


feasible  plan  for  gradually  doing  it,  but  unfortunately  the 
bank  belonged  to  the  crown  and  was  too  sacred  to  be  im- 
proved. Afterwards,  when  my  friend  Mr.  Ewing  was  magis- 
trate, and  long  after  I  had  loft  the  town,  the  Barons  of  the 
Exchequer  were  induced  to  give  the  bniik  to  the  town  for 
a  mess  of  pottage  in  the  shape  of  a  cask  of  rum;  the  town 
has  not  however  yet  made  any  use  of  the  acquisition  nor 
evinced  any  sense  of  its  value ;  some  day  the  magistrates 
under  a  reformed  parliament  will  no  doubt  be  enlightened' 
on  the  subject. 

In  contriving  schemes  such  as  these  my  youth  was  spent, 
hut  tiiey  were  all  of  too  grand  a  calibre  to  obtain  any  attention , 
and  1  doubt  if  there  yet  be  any  ono  among  my  contempora- 
ries capable  of  appreciating  their  importance. 

By  the  by,  while  I  am  on  the  subject,  I  may  mention  anoth- 
er, local  project,  namely,  cutting  a  canal  from  Loch  Lomond 
through  the  valley  of  Arrocher  to  Loch  Long.  It  might  be 
done  at  little  expense,  and  open  up  by  Loch  Lomond  all  the 
heart  of  Scotland  round  its  banks.  I  have  never  heard  this 
project  discussed,  and  it  is  now  much  more  than  thirty  years 
since  I  formed  it,  which  either  proves  that  the  scheme  is  a 
very  foolish  suggestion  or  that  the  resident  gentlemen  are,  as 
they  are  commonly  supposed  to  be,  not  far  sighted.  But  the 
thing  will  be  done,  though  I  may  compare  myself  to  the  old 
lady  who  advised  her  husband  to  take  a  second  wife  when 
she  died,  adding,  with  appropriate  pathos,  "  but,  Robin,  it  is 
what  I'll  never  live  to  see." 


.^;- 


^_.    ~^ir- ^■'.-      -.1,     :-.P»;»:j. 


16 


THE   AUTOBrOOllAl'IlY   OF 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Attnchmfut  to    Gretnock.     Mr.  Park, 
menis.     Displeased  ivitli  him. 


Of  his  accomplish- 


I  REMAINED  at  Grcenock  fourteen  or  fifteen  years.  I  do  not 
Siiy  it  was  the  happiest  period  of  my  life,  altiiougJi  it  is  recol- 
lected as  the  longest.  1  was  never  there  in  my  element, 
i-'omething-  of  constraint  environed  mo,  and  although  I  feel 
towards  the  place  the  strongest  local  attachment,  and  those 
w  iiom  I  have  loved  dearest  were  inhahitants  of  that  town,  I 
tliink  of  it  m  repeating 

Thai  inonitisof  youth  are  ycois  fifliiiH'.  '      . 

Old  lipartH  in  fading  bosoms  loll ; — 
On  frifiiddliips  formed  ill  that  swnel  primp, 
^^  -       ,  Why  docs  remtmbrurice  iovcio  dwell  1  , 

Wliy  are  Ihe  lies  of  riper  life, 
That  pride  and  reason  ratify,  s 

Hut  tilmenla  deemed  tliat  snap  in  strife  ? 
v  And  transient  birda  that  rest  and  dy? 

-■  ••  Few  sunny  hours  In  vernal  days, 

Surtice  to  build  the  geiiile  nest,  •         ■"'■■'■  '   ' 

Where  Hope  her  fairest  promi«e  lays,  .        .     ' 

And  thrive  tlie  callow  fancies  best. 

Yet  I  do  not  recollect  any  circumstance  which  should  endear 
the  remembrance  of  Greenock  to  me.  Those  of  the  inhabit- 
ants 1  knew  were  no  doubt  very  estimable  in  their  qualities, 
but  not  so  remarkably  so  as  to  make  them  in  any  degree  dis- 
tinguished. Upon  the  whole  they  were,  perhaps,  of  an  infe- 
rior intellectual  class  from  what  I  have  often  since  met  with  ; 
but  they  are  regarded  with  a  partiality  by  me  that  can  only  be 
ascribed  to  the  remembrance  of  young  impressions.    Tow- 


r 


JOHN  <»ALr. 


17  . 


ards  the  memory  of  Mr.  Jamns  Park,  who  was  my  particular 
asBociate,  I  iiave  ever  felt  a  strony  attacinuent. 

lln  was  a  greatly  snp'^rior  youn;T  man, — far  more  accom- 
plished than  any  other  person  I  have  ever  since  known,  and  I 
<lo  not  except  J^ord  Byron  when  I  say  so.  He  read  several 
languages  perfectly, — his  poems  i  flen  approximated  to  ge- 
nius, and  his  prose  composition*,  if  they  were  not  eloquent 
and  original,  were  highly  elegant  and  sometitnes  heautiful. 
Perhaps,  hud  he  not  been  long  the  victim  of  infirm  health  he 
might  have  merited  admiration  ;  as  it  is,  I  cannot  think  of  him 
but  as  one  of  the  most  amiable  persons  I  ever  met  with  in  life. 

Of  his  character  it  is  impossible  to  speak,  but  warmly  ;  for 
ulthough  in  some  things  he  did  not  act  towards  me  as  I  would 
hav(;  done  towards  him,  I  still  feel  that  he  acted  in  a  manner 
entitled  to  regard.  When  the  cause  occurred  which  induced 
me  to  leave  Greenock,  ho  did  not  perform  the  part  I  expected; 
and  there  was  afterwards  an  incident  occurred  that  did  not 
strengthen  our  affection. 

It  was  J  well  knew  the  constant  intention  of  my  father 
tiiat  his  children  should  inherit  equally,  and  that  our  mother 
should  be  independent  of  us ;  circumstances  with  which  the 
world  has  nothing  to  do  induced  him  to  alter  his  will,  and  it  so 
happened  that  by  a  misdescription  of  his  property  the  new  will 
could  not  be  carried  into  effect,  and  I  as  heir-at-law,  who  was 
the  cause  of  this  change,  became  the  sole  inheritor.  When 
the  error  was  discovered,  my  mother  and  sister  did  no  more 
than  justice  to  me  in  expecting  that  T  would  confirm  a  set- 
tlement according  to  what  was  understood  to  be  the  intention 
of  my  father ;  but  my  mother  requested  Mr.  Park  to  write 
me  on  the  subject.  I  was  then  very  poor  as  I  always  have 
been,  and  to  have  inherited  a  patrimony  that  would  have 
cleared  me  of  debt  was  no  doubt  a  great  temptation.  Of  this 
my  friend  Park  was  fully  aware,  and  his  letter  to  me  was 
couched  in  delicate  terms  as  to  the  dependence  in  which  my 
mother  would  be  left,  hoping  I  would  master  my  temptation 

and  set  my  mother's  mind  at  ease.     Well  do  I  recollect  the 

B  2 


18 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


feelings  which  h's  letter  awakened ;  that  he,  the  companion 
of  my  youtii,  should  have  thought  any  exhortation  necessary  ! 
I  am  not  sure  tliat  I  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  his  letter  ? 
but^I  instantly  wrote  either  to  my  sister  or  my  mothertoget  a 
deed  prepared  as  my  father  intended,  and  it  was  executed. 


^     >v.  .. 


■i    ---rs^T'  ^  ^',^-fi  .  ",  ,_     »-.^;Ji 


JOHN  GALT. 


19 


CHAPTER  V. 
Mr.  Ewing.     Strange   dream.      Subsequent  calamities.- 


One  of  my  first  attempts  at  verse-making, 
land.     His  pompous  language. 


Miller's  Gar- 


Undoubtedly  the  spring  time  of  life  spent  at  Greenock  was 
not  without  sunshine.  I  ever  recollect  with  great  pleasure 
my  connexion  with  Mr.  Ewing.  In  all  the  vicissitudes  of  a 
very  various  life,  I  have  never  met  with  a  person  of  such  truly 
sterling  worth.  His  talents  were  not,  in  a  literary  point  of 
view,  comparable  to  those  of  many  that  1  have  seen,  but  I  nev- 
er saw  in  any  one  such  equanimity  of  temper  and  greater 
purity  of  heart. 

In  latter  years  respecting  this  gentleman  I  encountered  a 
very  tingular  adventure.  When  in  Canada,  as  a  commission- 
er, I  did  not  enjoy  very  good  health;  my  sleep  was  disturbed 
and  unsound,  the  consequences  of  a  lurking  new  disease  that 
was  not  then  understood. 

There  was  a  general  table  provided  for  the  commissioners 
at  which  we  regularly  met,  but  sometimes  when  the  weather 
was  very  cold  I  breakfasted  in  my  own  lodgings. 

One  morning,  the  8th  of  April,  while  my  servant  was  get- 
ting ready  breakfast  I  fell  asleep,  from  which  I  was  awoke 
before  the  breakfast  was  ready  with  something  terrible  sound- 
ing in  the  enrs  of  my  mind.  All  I  could  make  out  was,  that 
some  dreadful  misfortune  had  befallen  Mr.  Ewing,  and  the 
impression  upon  me  was  so  strong  that  1  was  unable  to  eat, and 
became  seriously  unwell. 

On  going  to  the  Board,  which  met  every  day,  there  was 


■'fi 


20 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


only  present  Mr.  John  Davidson,  of  Quebec,  another  commis- 
sioner ;  the  otiiers  were  vvalkinn|-  about  till  the  office-hour  ar- 
rived.  Davidson,  on  seeing  me,  inquired  how  I  had  slept, 
and  what  was  the  matter  with  mo,  expressing  concern  at  my 
altered  appearance.  I  related  to  him  the  terror  in  which  I  had 
awoke,  but  he  made  light  of  it,  for  he  was  a  man  of  some 
humour,  and  in  time  it  was  seemingly  forgotten,  though  I 
marked  the  date  at  the  time. 

On  my  arrival  at  Liverpool  some  weeks  after,  I  was  how- 
ever told  by  an  old  mutual  friend,  Mr.  Hugh  Mattie,  that  Mr. 
Ewing's  family  wore  at  the  time  subjected  to  a  great  calamity, 
several  of  the  children  and  servants  having  died  of  typhus 
fever.  The  news  produced  on  me  a  very  saddening  effect, 
and  I  remembered  my  dream. 

1  had  not  been  long  in  London  when  I  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Ewing  himself,  communicating  the  intelligence  of 
his  poor  wife's  death  of  a  broken  heart,  in  consequence  of 
losing  so  many  of  her  chikh'cn,  and  containuig  a  long  account 
of  domestic  suffering?,  which  commenced  at  a  certain  hour 
on  the  8th  of  April.  A  gentleman  was  with  me  when  1  re- 
ceived the  letter,  which  I  handed  to  him,  and  looking  out  for 
my  pocket-book,  found  the  date  of  my  visionary  terror  to  cor- 
respond exactly  with  the  commencement  of  Mr.  Ewing's  suf- 
ferings, allowing  for  the  longitude. 

This  is  not  all:  the  presentiment  seemed  to  me  very  extra- 
ordinary, and  in  consequence,  some  years  after,  I  composed 
a  tale  from  it,  which  was  published  in  one  of  the  Annuals, 
disguised,  of  course,  in  its  circumstances.  In  due  time  I  re- 
ceived the  proof  slieet  of  my  contribution,  and  at  tiie  same 
time  wlieu  it  came  in  1  was  looking  at  an  old  magazine,  in 
which,  to  my  astonishment,  was  a  description  of  a  similar  pre- 
sentiment tliat  had  happened  to  some  Austrian  officers. 

That—  ,      .  ■  ■      ' 

"  Tli^rf  are  more  things,  ill  the  Iieavons  and  the  eatUi  ., 

Tliiiii  are  dreamt  of  in  pliilosophy," 

I  cannot  doubt,  and  I  record  this  affair  as  one  of  those  which 
may  excite  wonder  because  it  is  inexplicable. 


JOHN  GALT. 


21 


Mr.  Evving's  uncle  and  partner,  with  whom  I  was  in  time 
associated,  was  one  of  the  fattest  men  I  ever  saw.  He  was 
a  gentleman  possessed  of  great  integrity,  though  not  remarka- 
ble for  talent;  but  he  must  have  been  a  person  of  many 
good  qualities,  for  I  recollect  him  with  affection;  even  his 
foibles  have  a  warm  place  in  my  regard.  I  always  thought 
he  treated  me  with  more  than  common  kindness,  and  his  pom- 
pous manner  I  have  ever  regarded  as  an  innocent  infirmity. — 
When  a  mere  boy  in  the  countinghouse,  he  made  me  a  present 
of  Young's  Night  Thoughts,  recommending  it  to  me  by  quot- 
ing with  great  emphasis  the  exordium, —         ,      ,.    ,    .^.^ 

"  Tired  Nature's."  &:c.  •^.. 

It  was  certainly  not  a  book  for  a  merchant  to  give  to  a  ju- 
nior clerk,  but  it  was  a  proof  of  his  good-nature,  and  I  think 
now  he  must  have  considered  me  as  something  out  of  the 
way.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  subjects  of  my  muse,  and 
the  occasion  still  makes  me  smile. 

At  that  time  came  occasionally  to  Greenock  a  blind  beggar- 
man,  who  went  up  and  down  the  streets  singing  a  biographi- 
cal ditty  about  how  he  lost  his  sight.     The  first  verge  was, — 

"  In  Girven  I  was  bred  and  born,  >■      - ,, 

All  in  the  ssliire  of  Ayr, 
Of  good  and  iionest  parents  dear, 

Will)  took  of  nie  great  care." 

It  happened  that  Mr.  Miller,  when  he  thought  the  clerks 
remiss,  used  to  lecture  them  lefl-handedly,  by  recounting  the 
great  things  he  did  when  a  young  man.  I  was  a  particular 
object  of  these  inflictions,  but  they  made  only  a  ludicrous  im- 
pression upon  mo.  One  day  he  described,  for  an  admonitory 
purpose,  one  of  his  exploits  when  young,  about  shipping  to- 
bacco at  all  the  quays,  and  how  tired  he  was.  At  the  time 
I  was  brimful  of  Plutarch,  and  had  the  most  ineffable  contempt 
for  such  labours  compared  with  those  of  Hercules,  but  there 
was  something  in  the  toils  of  ISIr.  Miller  amusing  to  my  fan- 
cy, and  I  made  a  boyish  parody  on  the  beggar's  ditty,  which  X 
entitled  "  Miller's  Garland."  I  don't  remember  much  of  it, 
but  it  was  not  without  humour.    The  first  stanza  was  the 


22 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


same,  with  the  substitution  of  *Keppoch'  for  *Girven,' and 
'  Dumbartonshire'  for  'tlie  shire  of  Ayr.'  The  stanzas  describ- 
ing his  fatigue  were  good;  they  were — 

"  And  wlien  the  hour  of  dinner  came, 

So  greatly  was  1  tired, 
Thai  it'  a  boat  had  not  passed  by, 

And  I  tlie  same  liad  liired, 
1  fainted  liad,  and  o'er  the  quay 

My  body  would  have  fell, 
But  luckily  the  boat  passed  by,  - 

And  saved  my  soul  from  hell." 

Mr.  Miller  had,  among  other  peculiarities,  a  strange  passion 
for  the  ore  rotundo,  which  used  mightily  to  amuse  me.  One 
morning,  atler  Lord  Macartney's  fruitless  negociation  for 
peace,  he  was  talking  to  me  on  the  subject,  and  among  other 
things  said  that  in  his  opinion  "  Lord  Macartney  acted  with 
great  judgment  and  sensibility."  I  have  never  forgot  the 
phrase.  Another  day,  when  we  were  extremely  busy  in  the 
office,  a  whipper-snapixjr  of  a  boy  came  in  to  get  something 
settled:  "  Come,"  said  the  man-mountain,  when  the  hurry  of 
the  business  of  the  day  is  over,  and  it  shall  be  expiscatetl." 
But  Mr.  Miller  was  not  always  so  elaborate  in  his  phraseol- 
ogy. It  happened  that  a  writer,  (as  attorneys  are  called  in 
Scotland,)  who  did  our  business,  was  absent  one  day  when  a 
bill  was  to  be  protested.  Mr.  Miller  was  standing  frying 
with  passion  at  the  gate,  but  I  know  nothing  of  the  cause.  He 
however  said,  "  Mr.  John,  have  you  seen  him  i  "  Who  f" 
"The  stupidest  man  ever  the  Lord  took  the  trouble  to  put 
the  breath  of  life  in."  I  knew  it  was  of  his  coz.  Nathan  he 
spoke. 

But  although  my  hereditary  predilection  for  oddities,  was 
never  rightly  understood  at  Greenock,  my  early  years  and 
curious  character  in  James  Miller  and  Co.'s  office  are  bright 
to  look  back  upon.  Mr.  Ewing  still  stands  with  me  as  the 
very  pattern  of  a  gentleman  in  private  life ;  Mr.  Miller,  for 
whom  I  never  had  a  particle  of  reverence,  seems  to  me  in 
some  sort  as  an  ancestor  that  J  ought  to  venerate,  and  I  do  so; 


JOHN   OALT. 


23 


for  with  all  his  foibles  be  had  many  excellent  qualities.  It 
is  curious  to  remark  how  much  recollections  as  well  as  colours 
change  by  time  and  exposure.  How  many  things  that  on  their 
advent  in  those  days  were  disagreeable,  provoke  laughter  in 
the  remembrance ! 


I  ,  ii.  i' 


1 


li'K 


rt: 


^f  ■'    V 


'^•f':^ 


II 


J.  I', 


w 


24 


THE  A 


XJTOTllOGRArin'  OF 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Durham.    Mrs.  Siddons.  .       .     .      .  ^ 

ft  TreeDOck  were  not  so 
T.U>e  fourteen  or  6''^="  f"  mZwedly  constituted  a  krgc 
bright  as  some  others,  tl-y  "dou^'^d  J^  ^^        ^^ 
oaSs  in  the  desert  of  m>  1*'  ^™  associates  there. 

to^va^ds  mankind  is  ^^^^^^^  "If  „^ore  accomplished  but 
I  have  met,  no  doubt,  ""^  many  m  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^  ^,ightest 
never  with  better  men ;  nor  Co  i  ^^^^  ^„^ev- 

Ide  was  ever  cast  upon  any  one  o    h  »  ^^  .^^^.^^ . 
er,  what  to  me  has  ever  m^^'^^,'  ^^  others  of  the  human 
,;,  a  conceit  of  tl-mse  «s  abo>«  ;,„^„a  instances  of  lh« 
-e  whom  I  liave  ever  seen.  ^^^^  ^gaiu  m 

weakness  crowd  "P™. ^.^fs  t  "'^  '"'' ™' ''  *""'"^ 
this  narrative  my  youthful  J»y|'2>;*^  ,,  ,  poetical  people 
calumniate  ^^eir  hearts  UnuWeJ,^  but  owing  to  the 
beneaoence  was  *«  dr *  o'^'^e  ^^^^^  ^^^^^^^j 

defect  in  then  heads,  teywer  ^^^  ^,        -ere  as  void 

a  kind  of  good-humored  detracuon^  ^^^  ^^^^^,^3, 

"•  as  the  leeci^J^^  -^/^of  gratifying  its  own  appe- 
effects  a  cure  when  n  vwy 

^''®-  ..       .1   » ,»mler  rav  recollections  of  Green- 

Among  other  thmgs  t'«';;™f  ;2,„i„„s  with  my  compa- 
ock  light  and  gay,  were  semal  exc„  ^^  ^^  ^^^ 

nions.    The  first  was  w.th  P"*  ""^  :„„„ey,  of  which 

of  Agnew  Crawford ;  a  sort  oj  walkmg  3  ^^_^^^_^^^^ 

Edinburgh  was  the  apex.    ',j,,owever,  be  tedious  to 
to  Glasgow  before  breakfast.    It  wouio. 


JOHN  GALT. 


25 


narrate  the  incidents  of  a  journey  which  are  still  recollected 
as  expedients  to  make  a  light  purse  supply  a  voracious  curiosi- 
ty. We  were  absent  nearly  two  weeks ;  during  which  we 
saw  a  world  of  wonders,  and  made  a  circuitous  tour,  which 
brought  us  home  by  Stirling  and  Dumbartonshire.     ' 

I  shall  never  forget  a  sort  of  gipsyan  expedition  we  made 
to  Loch  Lomond  ;  and  another  year,  wlicn  shooting  up  into 
manhood,  Crawford,  Park,  and  myself,  went  a  walking  excur- 
sion to  Duriiam,  in  England,  in  which,  as  our  purses  were 
better  lined,  when  the  weather  did  not  serve,  we  occasionally 
made  use  of  a  post-chaise.  Our  course  was  up  tlie  Clyde  to 
Biggar,  and  down  the  Tweed  to  Berwick,  where  we  regular- 
ly posted  in  our  subsequent  journey ;  visiting  all  and  more  of 
the  border  curiosities  than  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  since  render- 
ed so  meraorabl ).  It  was  in  this  excursion  that  I  saw,  for 
the  first  time,  Mrs.  Siddons  perform,  at  Durham,  and  the  char- 
acter was  Lady  Macbeth.  The  natural  earnestness  in  the 
famous  scene  wherein  the  lady  instigates  Macbeth  to  the 
murder  of  Duncan,  particularly  struck  mc  as  the  finest  thing 
I  had  overseen  that  was  not  true.  1  can  recall  no  recollection 
of  my  efforts  in  histrionic  art  with  which  I  have  been  more 
delighted. 

The  excursion  to  Durham  was  the  lastot  our  boyish  travels. 
1  made,  afterwards,  however,  short  visits  to  Glasgow  to  see  Lon- 
don stars;  but  no  epic  adventure  beyond  the  labours  of  a  day. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  now,  that  those  desultory  and  random 
flights  had  a  great  efil^ct  in  the  development  of  character. 
They  were  undertaken  earnestly,  for  the  acquisition  of  know- 
ledge; and  the  reminiscence  of  many  circumstances  that 
occurred  in  them  have  furnished  me  witii  picturesque  topics, 
and  have  given  me  an  enjoyment  in  the  perusal  of  border  his- 
tory and  legends  which  the  works  of  Scott  have  tended  to 
render  always  delightful. 

But  I  felt  at  Gieenock  as  if  I  was  never  in  my  proper  ele- 
ment.    That  soft  easiness  of  temper  which   so   hmg  hung 

about  me  was  never   there  correctly  understood,    nnd  the 

C 


m 


m\ 


■  I  If 

t] 

m 


:% 


26 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


decisions  of  my  mind,  though  tardy  in  being  formed,  were  so 
suddenly  manifested,  that  I  am  sure  many  thought  me  a  rash 
and  precipitate  young  man. 

But,  in  saying  this,  1  do  not  mean  to  insinuate  any  disparage- 
ment to  the  discernment  of  my  early  friends ;  probably  I  was 
only  in  the  chill  of  that  shadow  which  is  unfelt  in  a  different 
scene.  We  hear,  for  example,  of  many  who  seem  changed  by 
being  removed  from  home.  I  am  not,  however,  one  of  those 
that  think  mankind  ever  undergo  any  alteration.  Men  are 
like  the  camcleon;  they  take  a  new  colouring  from  the  objects 
tliey  are  among :  the  reptile  itself  never  alters  either  in 
shape  or  substance. 


JOHN   GALT. 


Wl 


CHAPTER  VII 


Town  library.  Locking  up  of  books.  Ajilot.  The  recall 
of  the  books.  Corps  of  sharp-shooters.  Rejection.  Re- 
solutions thereon.     Godwin^s  Political  Justice.     Origin 

of  moral  sentiments. 

•  '  - 

Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  public  library  of 
Greenock,  as  supplying  me  regularly  with  books.  The  collec- 
tion was  formed  with  judgment,  for  although  not  then  calcula- 
ted to  promote  any  specific  study,  it  was  yet  admirably  adapt- 
ed to  afford  the  best  information  which  a  mercantile 
community  could  require.  The  original  institution  did  credit 
in  this  respect  to  the  founders,  and  their  principles  had  been 
adhered  to  by  their  successors. 

But  during  the  French  revolution,  when  party  spirit  ran 
high,  the  committee  who  had  the  management  partook  of  the 
excitement,  and,  at  their  suggestion,  at  a  public  meeting,  the 
library  was  purged  in  some  degree  of  the  tainted  authors : 
namely,  Holcrofl,  Godwin,  &lq,.  and  the  books'were  transferred 
from  the  library-room  to  the  custody  of  Mr.  John  Dunlop,  the 
grandfather  of  my  friend  the  Doctor.  From  this  unheard-of 
proceedmg  in  a  Protestant  land,  great  wrath  was  nursed  in 
the  bosoms  of  the  young  men  connected  with  the  library  : 
mine  was  inflamed  prodigiously,  and  I  never  spoke  of  Mr. 
Dunlop  by   any  other  name  than  the  khaliph  Omer. 

When  some  time  had  elapsed,  and  indignation  began  to  take 
the  form  of  habitude,  I  recalled  to  mind  that  in  the  annual 
general  meeting  for  nominating  the  committee,  whoever  hap- 


8( 


\'- 


■«■ 


IS 


28 


Tin:    ALTOUIOOttAPIlY    OF 


pened  to  be  in  the  clmir  his  nominations  were  accepted.  A 
plot  was  in  consoqiienco  set  a- toot,  and  a  gentleman  who  has 
since  lilled  the  ollice  of  chief  magistrate  was^,  by  the  devices 
of  UiG  inulconteiiti^,  phiced  in  the  chair.  WJien  the  commit- 
tee came  to  be  named,  he  took  good  care  that  the  majority 
should  be  of  tlie  liberals.  I  do  take  my  full  share  of  this 
stratagem,  and  to  make  short  of  a  long  tale,  it  ended  in  tri- 
umphantly recalling  the  heretical  books,  and  raisnig  the  rate 
of  the  annual  subs>cription  to  get  more.  In  this  atfair  I  was, 
liowever,  not  very  ostensible,  nor  have  I  ever  been,  in  any 
tiling  of  a  public  nature  in  which  I  was  concerned,  obtrusive. 
The  effects  of  the  machination  are,  however,  on  the  minute- 
books  of  the  library,  and  it  will  be  seeii  that  my  modest  and 
prudent  friend,  Mr.  Park,  was  set  forward  on  the  occasion. 
From  that  era,  the  liberals  of  the  town  have,  I  believe,  had 
the  ascendancy  in  the  management  of  the  library. 

But  although,  from  this  matter  of  tlic  tainted  books,  it 
might  have  been  supposed  we  were  of  democratic  principles, 
it  was  not  so ;  no  town  was  generally  more  loyal  than  Green- 
ock ;  for  myself,  I  have  never,  in  any  situation,  had  nmch 
taste  for  politics,  but  I  have  leant  all  my  life  to  Toryism ; — 
my  j)olitics  are  perhaps  better  expressed  by  the  recently  as- 
sumed term  of  Conservative. 

At  the  time  of  the  library  intrigue  I  was  a  volunteer,  the 
youngest  in  the  corps.  Among  the  inquisitors  who  banished 
the  books  was  the  colonel,  and  he  remarked  at  the  meeting  to 
Mr.  Walter  Ritchie,  that  the  books  to  be  .consigned  to  the 
custody  of  Mr.  Dunlop  were  written  with  so  much  plausibili- 
ty, that  even  he,  Mr.  Ritchie  himself,  might  be  seduced  by 
them. 

I  happened  to  be  standing  near  when  he  made  this  speech, 
a«ul  though  but  comparatively  u  boy,  said,  "Then  surely 
there  must  be  some  truth  in  them,  lo  have  such  an  influence." 

When  the  second  revolutionary  war  occurred,  1  had  harden- 
ed into  somewhat  more  decision  of  character,  and  I  set  about 
raising  a  corps  of  two  companies  of  sharp-shooters,  or  riflemen, 


I 


JOHN   GALT. 


20 


the  first  of  the  kind  raised  in  the  volunteer  force  of  the 
kingdom.  In  this  business,  thouc^h  rather  conspicuous,  I  did 
not  press  myself  prom uiently  forward;  on  the  coHtrury,  the 
offer  of  service  was  first  signed  by  my  old  friend,  the  late  Mr. 
Thos.  Ritchie,  the  son  of  the  aforesaid  Walter.  I  next  carried 
it  to  friend  Park,  whose  signature  may  be  seen,  I  think,  before 
mine,  if  the  offer  of  service  is  still  preserved  in  the  archives 
of  the  War-Office. 

Some  demuf  on  the  point  of  etiquette  occurred,  and  offer 
of  free  service,  clothing,  and  arming  ourselves  was  not  ac- 
cepted. A  correspondence  ensued  with  the  lord  lieutenant  of 
the  county,  who  ultimately  wrote  tiiat  the  offer  was  rejected. 

Full  of  military  aidour,  and  just  as  good  judges,  as  wo 
thought,  of  the  danger  to  which  the  country  was  exposed  as 
his  majesty's  ministers,  we  held  a  meeting  in  this  crisis,  at 
which  some  resolutions,  proposed  by  me,  were  adopted.  One 
of  them  would  have  done  credit  to  Don  Quixotte  himself.  It 
was  to  the  effect,  that,  having  been  persuaded  of  the  dangers 
to  which  the  country  was  exposed,  wc  had  associated  our- 
selves together,  and  made  as  liberal  an  offer  as  any  other  body 
of  volunteers  in  the  kingdom;  but  wo  rejoiced  to  hear  that 
our  apprehensions  were  fallacious,  and  would  retire  into  pri- 
vate life  on  the  assurance  of  his  majesty's  government  that  we 
had  nothing  to  fear,  and  would  severally  exert  ourselves  in 
our  private  stations,  to  counteract,  by  all  the  means  in  our 
power,'  the  alarms  so  industriously  spread.  At  this  distance 
of  time,  the  precise  words  cannot  be  quoted,  but  the  represen- 
tation is  probably  still  extant :  it  had  the  desired  effect,  the 
officers  and  corps  appeared  in  the  next  Gazette. 

This  was  the  last  touch  of  public  machination  that  I  prac- 
tised in  Greenock,  for  I  came  next  year  to  London. 

But  to  return  to  the  library,  to  which  I  will  ever  consider 
myself  as  greatly  indebted! — The  fracas  of  banishing  "  the 
pestiferous  books"  had  the  effect,  as  might  be  expected,  of 
bringing  them  into  notice,  and  Godwin's  Political  Justice 
attracted  my  attention :  in  consequence  I  read  it.  Never  pious 

C  3 


r 


n 


ss 


I,- 


80 


THE   AUTODTOORAPIIY    OF 


catholic  was  more  astonished  at  the  ctlrontery  of  Luthor'a 
Commonlary  on  the  Galatians,  than  I  waH  with  the  contents 
of  thot  hook.  I  (lescrihed  it  to  Park  ns  of  the  most  diaholical 
kind  ;  and  wiial  rendered  it  to  mo  the  nioie  ohnoxious  was,  it 
Hoomcd  wonderfully  true  and  many  of  the  things  in  it.  My 
account  to  Park  led  him  to  read  it  also,  and  from  less  to  more 
it  grew  into  vogue. 

But  tiiough  I  could  not  refute  the  arp^uments  of  Mr.  God- 
win, 1  yet  was  sure  that  they  were  wrong,  and  that  there 
was  some  instinctive  principle  of  morality  which  was  earlier 
exercised  than  reason.  Years  afler,  1  became  more  convinc- 
ed of  this,  and  ultimately  of  opinion,  that  wliat  was  wanted 
could  only  be  found  among  the  affections.  This  notion,  on  my 
first  voyage;  to  the  Mediterranean,  I  embodied  in  the  follow- 
ing passage  of  a  poem  which  1  then  wrote,  called  the  Educa- 
tion of  Medea ;  and  have  lived  to  see  that  Mr.  Godwin's  no- 
tions on  the  subject  are  consigned,  with  other  radical  trash, 
to  the  midden  hole  of  philosophy.  No  sensible  man  imagines 
now  that  the  world  may  be  better  regulated  by  the  deductions 
of  human  reason  than  by  the  instincts  conferred  by  Heaven  : 

EXTRACT  FROM 

"THE  EDUCATION  OF  MEDEA." 


"  By  him  inforniM,  slie  Unrne  with  now  surprise, 
How  inorul  Miituru  I'urina  tlie  viicinl  lies 
'  Fioiii  sonsual  instincts,'  Unis  KnloB  would  say  . — 
'  AttVciioii  flows  anil  virtue  claims  her  sway. 
Tiie  toiidt'r  niotlior,  hy  licr  baiie  carcss'd, 
Pan  of  lierMcIf,  holds  fondly  to  lur  breast. 
Pleas'd  with  hislactile  food,  the  infant  clinga 
To  his  first  paradise,  and  drinks  the  springs. 
Wiih  opening  ray,  his  mind  discerning  soon 
That  smiling  woman  yields  the  soothing  boon, 
The  sex  alilte  his  infant  transports  share, 
Nor  knows  his  mother  till  ht^fecls  her  care, 
The  fears  and  pains  that  tender  care  allays, 
His  filial  worship  to  her  heart  repays  : 
In  graver  kindness,  is  the  father  shown. 
And  hence  the  reverent  friendship  of  the  son. 

" '  Lo,  at  the  hearth,  with  playful  children  round, 


.lOUN  UALT. 


e 

c- 

V- 

a- 

U)- 

ms 


VVIu're  Inyn  (l4!li|;(tir,  nni\  iiiVHtic  tnlen  a'^tnund, 
JuotlcK  uimoiiKlil,  ttif  luKi'KHiM  wfaltli  ilivi(li-t», 
And  Coiitiilt'iict!,  wilb  open  breast  prcaidt's.  > 

TUv.  (iuick-rirv('iij|(;d  niiil  Hdoii-lorgollfn  wrwnjt, 
Uiit  twiiic  ttu.'clioriln.tliat  j^iii  ttii' jnyoiiH  tliroii;;. 
And  love  truteinul,  ere  tlit;  world  can  harm, 
Ditep  ill  tlic  bosom  nvHiIca,  cIuhu  uiid  wurm. 

■ '  Till)  Hliuliter  iiitimatori  uf  riper  n\ic, 
In  diiu  de^i t'ttH,  the  partial  lieurt  eiijjage. 
For  man,  a  b>in^'  finite,  frail,  iiiui  vuin. 
Can  few  within  iiin  wmull  embrace  contain  ; 
And  oft,  hy  gnsts'of  furious  pasHion  driven, 
UreaifB  from  the  blest  grcgarian  chain  of  heav«n. 

Hence  public  law  ;  the  comprehensive  plan, 

Drawn  froHi  the  hearth,  would  link  the  race  of  man 

But  cursU  or  honour'd  with  a  double  life, 

The  mental  and  corporeal  still  at  strife. 

We  draw  the  maxims  with  a  false  pretence, 

Still  fur  tlie  plu.isure  of  the  corpor'nl  some : 

8till  to  uphold  the  gorg(>ou8  dome  secure, 

VVc  make  ilie  cause  that  tempts  to  guilt  the  poor.' " 


If 


let 


S3 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OP 


,  >-• 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Monthly  society.  Nature  of  the  speculations.  A  poem  by 
Park.  An  ode.  The  Greenock  Advertiser. '^^Contribu- 
tions. The  editor.  The  Battle  of  Hohenlinclen.  Camp- 
bell.    The  Pleasures  of  Hope. 

During  this  period,  some  half  a  dozen  or  fewer  of  my  com- 
panions formed  a  monthly  society,  at  the  instigation  of  Wil- 
liam Spence.  We  read  all  sorts  of  essays  about  every  sort  of 
subject,  from  the  "  cedar  tree  that  is  on  Lebanon  to  the  hyssop 
that  springetli  out  of  the  wall",  and  afterwards  discussed 
philosophical  topics,  and  tlien  had  a  supper.  But  we  were  not 
so  wise  when  we  broke  up,  which  was  after  midnight,  as 
when  the  sederunt  commenced  at  seven  o'clock.  I  was  the 
youngest  member,  and  certainly  not  the  best  writer  ;  both 
Spence  and  Park  were  superior;  but  it  is  curious  to  observe 
how  early  innate  character  begins  to  manifest  itself  The 
essays  of  William  Spence  were  very  astronomical,  we  thought 
them  profound  ;  they  were  all  about  planets^and  comets,  the 
cosmogony  of  tlie  earth,  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter,  and 
the  boundless  of  nature,  premundane  space ;  any  thing  of  tliis 
world  was  too  gross  to  enter  into  his  speculative  theories. 

Park's  essays  were  different ;  they  inculcated  propriety  and 
prudence  as  virtues  above  all  laud,  and  when  ill  health  after- 
wards weakened  his  energies,  no  man  could  conduct  himself 
with  such  a  judicious  estimate  of  the  effect  of  his  character. 

My  essays  were  rigmarole  things;  with  the  single  excep- 
tion of  an  allegory  on  Indolence  and  Industry,  they  were  the 
most  shocking  afRiirs  that  ever  issued  from  a  pen.    Yet  crude 


JOHN   GALT. 


33 


as  were  the  studies  and  the  lucubrations  of  this  society,  it 
lasted  several  years,  and  undoubtedly  had  an  important  influ- 
ence on  tlie  development,  if  not  the  formation  of  the  minds  of 
the  members.  At  this  day,  I  must  claim  for  it  the  merit  of 
having  been  very  wisely  conducted,  especially  when  it  is 
considered  that  it  was  composed  of  striplings,  and'  some  of 
them  in  after  life  distinguished  for  the  ardour  of  their  minds. 

Besides  the  jnental  occupation  which  the  library  genera- 
ted and  the  society  stimulated  we  began  at  this  period  to 
take  a  decided  predilection  for  literature.  Spence,  with  hia 
mathematics  and  music,  maintained  a  mystical  predominance. 
Park  and  I  vvei  e  addicted  to  belles  letters  and  poetry.  He 
was  nearly  a  year  older  than  me,  and  on  my  seventeenth 
birthday  presented  me  with  a  congratulatory  ode,  which  was 
as  common-place  as  any  ditty  in  a  young  lady's  album. 

This  classic  tribute  set  me  an  imitating,  and  on  his  birth- 
day, which  soon  followed,  a  return  in  kind,  beginning  mag- 
nificen*^\ '  with  a  stanza  that  I  have  never  forgotten,  for  with 
all  its  grandiloquent  rythm  it  was  disgraced  by  a  false  rhyme. 

It  was  thus : 

"Twice  nine  times   throujrh  tho  signs 

Ilatli  Sol  iiis  blazing  chariot  driven, 
And  ligulcituil  eartii'»  remotest  climes, 

Since  wakened  into  life  you  saw  ihe  light  of  Heav'n. 

Good  God  !  to  think  that  one  was  ever  so  young  as  to  write 
such  stuff! 

Some  time  after  tjjis,  Park,  improving  in  his  poetical  pre- 
dilections, wrote  "The  Astronomer"  on  our  schoolmaster,  who 
taught  us  geograpliy,  astronomy,  and  mathematics,  and  which 
we  deemed  a  production  of  infinite  merit.  I  have  perserved 
the  manuscript.    •  '  ■ 

"THE  ASTRONOMER, 


r 


I. 


^t- 


h 


If 


A   POEM. 


Addressed  to  Mr.  Colin  Lamont, 

"  Sauk  Orator,  who^ie  oscillating  tongue 
WitU  eloquent  vibration  doth  instruct 


34 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 


t':'\ 


The  ignorant  in  matiieinatic  lore  ;       t    . 
Geometry,  astronomy,  or  that 
Which  philosophers  geography  call ; 
Whether  thy  visual  nerve   thou  dost  apply 
To  quadrant,  sextant,  or  that  telescope 
Whoso  w'ond'rous  power,  reflecting,  magnifica 
Three  hundred  times  ;  unfold  thy  listening  ears, 
And  lay  them  open  to  admit  tiie  sound, 
Or  rather,  the  concussion  of  the  air, 
Which  I  thy  humlilo  pupil  shall  create 
By  loud  vociferation  in  thy  praise. 

"  Hut  first  let  me  invoke  the  heavenly  Muse, 
Urania  named,  that  dartinj;  from  the  skies, 
On  wings  of  fire  snatch'd  Milton  to  the  stars. 
IVo  humble  theuio,  O  <^!oddess,  claims  tliy  aid  ; 
Inspired  by  thee,  and  rapt  bcj'ond   the  clouds, 
I  mean  to  sing  of  vast  and  high  attempts, 
Herculcian  labours,  Lamont,  done  by  thee  I 

"  And  first  I  sins,  how  follow'd  by  a  crowd 
Of  young  adventurers,  wliom  thou  didst  load 
With  quadrant  and  theodolet,  thou  climbMst 
To  corlick's  cloudy  top,  where  flioii  didst  sit 
Like  .Jupiter  on  Ilia,  and  siirvej-ed 
Like  him  the  subject  world  beneath  thy  feet ! 
II<nv  like  a  god  thou  look'dst,  when  on  its  logs 
TliKU  lieavMst  the  mighty  telescope  !    Not  Jove 
Could  belter  wield  his  thunderbolts,  than  thou 
Could'st  wield  tin;  siglit-invigOrating  tube. 
Ti»ere  with    thy  famed  theodolet,   the  prime 
Of  mathematic  instruments,  thou  tri'dst 
The  space  betwi.vt  Cumbarton  and  that  hill 
On  earth  call  d  Mistilaw,  from  whence  the  eye 
All  Ayrshire  can  survey  upon  the  west! 

'•  Descending  from  this  soating  height,  the  muse 
With  admiration  ne.\t  c:)PtempIatr!J  thee 
Amid  the  little  circle  oi"  tiiy  ;^rliool, 
Indulging  all  thy  piiilosophic  inc. 
Well  may  the  irin.^e  dcscrilK,'  tli'  riccuslomed  scene  : 
The  scattcr'd  compasses  npon  the  desk, 
Tim  painted  globe  that  reprc-ents  tlie  earth 
Attended  by  a  .smaller  for  the  moon  ; 
And  for  the  sun  a  taper  dimly  shines. 

"  Then  do.st  tlmu  tell  of  motion  and  of  space, 
Of  mountains  and  volcanoes  in  the  moon, 
Of  stars  whose  distant  light  has  not  yet  reach'd 
This  earthly  globe,  of  gravitating  powur, 
Of  planets  wiieelin^  wide  around  the  sun 
Their  orbs  immense,  of  suns  beyond  the  sun, 


JOHN    GALT.  35 

•>  :    •,     Of  comets  rushing  lawless  though  the  sky,  -  * 

(Not  sky  but  ether  now  itniust  be  call'd  ;)  - 

While  cornet-like  thyself,  thou  dost  digress  ; 

Far  from  the  point  as  comets  from  the  sun. 

"Profound  philosopher,  how  dost  thou  smile 
With  conscious  excellence,  and  hawk  and  spit, 
And  chuckle  with  thy  hand  upon  thy  mouth, 
When  gaping  round  thee  with  profound  amaze. 
Thy  wond'ring  pupils  question  thee  again,  * 

And  labour  to  express  the  half-formed  thought; 
How  vague  and  undefined  compared  with  thine! 

"  Wilt  thou,  O  sage  astronomer,  unbend  ' 

Thy  doubtful  brow,  and  greatly  smiling,  deign 
To  listen  to  the  muse's  humble  song, 
That  oft  has  heard  thee  with  supreme  delight, 
And  fain  would  recompense  thee  with  her  praise  ? 

"  But  spurning  things  terrestrial,  Lamont,thou 

Disdain'st  the  muse's  labours,  and  each  night 

Dost  wakeful  vigil  keep  to  watch  the  moon. 

With  shari»en'd  sight  to  spy  out  her  intrigues  ;  , 

Heaven's  Argus  thou,  to  keep  her  in  control." 

This  he  dedn  ^^rl  to  me,  but  there  was  something — I 
don't  recollect  c  -in  the  dedication  that  made  me  at  the 
time  very  angry,  x-rom  this  period  the  muse  of  Park  grew 
up  into  a  very  well-bred  young  lady,  and  he  certainly  wrote 
many  things  of  elegance,  simplicity,  and  pathos ;  among  oth- 
ers, "The  Sabbath,  an  epistle  to  a  friend",  meaning  me,  which 
contains  several  passages  of  great  beauty.  It  preceded 
Graham's  Sabbath,  and  may  be  still  seen  in  Constable's 
Edinburgh  Magazine,  in  which  it  was  published.  I  have  of- 
ten thought  of  collecting  his  works  and  publishing  the  best 
of  them  in  a  volume,  but  it  has  not  been  in  my  power;  the 
design,  however,  is  not  given  up. 

After  the  jargon  of  the  birthday  ode  I  also  continued 
to  improve  in  my  poetical  effusions. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  when  the  preliminary  treaty 
which  led  to  the  peace  of  Amiens  was  promulgated  in  Lon- 
don, the  crowds  in  the  streets  were  banished  and  many  of  the 
illuminations  extinguished  by  a  terrible  thunder-storm.  This 
incident  excited  my  imagination  to  a  degree  which  did  not 
require  Cobbett's  comment  to  increase.    Accordingly,  on  the 


11 


tl 


h'- 


36 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP 


the  evening  that  his  paper  reached  Greenock  1  was  reading 
Gray's  Poems,  and  sat  down  full  of  poetic  rapture  and  wrote 
the  following  -  , 

ODE. 

Rejoice,  rejoice !  the  witchery  works, 

The  hour  of  horror  hastens  on,     . 
Death  in  the  plndj^eil  gohlet  lurks, — 

The  isle  of  lioiiour  is  undone  ! 

Hurrah  !  the  ancient  sceptre  fails, — 
Instead,  the  brand  of  vengeance  sways! — 

Hark:  the  reign  of  war  prevails, — 
Boroughs  hum  and  bulwarks  blaze. 

The  halo  leaves  the  royal  head, 

To  hi'lmets  grim  the  mitres  grow, 
The  lawn  is  dyed  with  murder  red, 
And  at  carousals  lewd  and  dread 
Batlcr'd  chalices  o'erflow. 

Away,  away,  ye  pallid  crew 

That  would  the  seal  of  fate  unfix 
The  vultures  hover  thick  in  view 

That  shall  your  mangled  members  mix. 

The  sun  has  set  no  more  to  rise, 
Though  through  tiie  stormy  clouds  awhile     • 

His  twilight  beams  may  gild  the  skies 
That  canopy  the  blasted  isle.  j. 

The  night  of  sorrow  closes  round, — 

Stir  up  the  havoc  breeding  s[(ell ; 
Staggering  earthquakes  reel  and  bound. 
Despair  exults,  by  madness  crownd, — 

Hurry,  hags  !  halloo  !  for  hell ! 

I 

I  sent  it  off  by  the  next  post  and  it  appeared  in  the  news- 
paper; afterwards  I  made  some  verbal  alteration.  Proud  of 
this  exploit,  I  did  not  tell  Park  of  it  till  after  he  had  read 
it  in  the  Porcupine  and  praised  it,  particularly  the  phrase  *'bat- 
tered  chalices." 

Besides  his  dealing  in  staves,  we  made  divers  speculations 
in  other  literary  commodities.  When  the  Greenock  Adver- 
tiser newspaper  was  set  up  we  became  occasional  contribu' 
tors.    Park  among  other  things  wrote  a  very  sedate,  sensi- 


'-■% 


JOHN  OALT. 


ble  letter  concerning  the  history  of  the  place,  and  signed 
it  most  absurdly  "  Juvenis."  I  replied  to  it  in  a  quizzical  man- 
ner, and  signed  my  letter  "  Senex,"  tickled  with  the  name 
he  had  assumed.  My  production  was  quaint  and  grave,  and 
drew  from  a  Mr.  Whitehead,  who  was  afterwards  rector  of 
"the  academy  at  Perth,  a  reply  under  the  signature  of  "  Adol- 
escens,"  in  which  he  controverted  my  antiquarian  theories, 
and  among  other  things  ridiculed  "  Senex"  for  an  hypothesis 
about  the  bay  being  called  St.  Lawrence.  "  Senex"  re- 
plied, and  put  him.  in  a  terrible  passion  by  alluding  to  an  ex- 
pression ho  had  made  use  of  about  the  saints  and  a  porridge- 
pot,  supposing  that  the  young  gentleman  had  iiis  breakfast 
in  view  when  he  was  writing  iiis  letter.  What  ensued  was 
torrifiic  ;  a  warning  that  all  critics  and  a uthors  should  be  in- 
formed of  and  lay  to  mind.  We  however  soon  forgot  the  al- 
tercation, for  the  young  heart  is  plump,  and  repulsive  to  dis- 
agreeable impressions.  We  became  friends,  and  many  a 
game  at  whist  afterwards  discussed  together,  to  which  cor- 
diality the  controversy  in  the  newspapers  undoubtedly  minis- 
tered.    I  do  not  know  if  Mr.  Whitehead  be  yet  alive. 

I  should  not  omit  this  opportunity  to  mention  that  the 
Greenock  paper  was  established  by  a  Mr.  John  Davidson,  a 
connexion  with  whom  was  afterwards  formed  by  Mr.  Thomas 
Campbell,  the  poet,  in  his  marriage.  Mr.  Davidson  was  a 
.  very  worthy  illess  bodie,  and  he  has  in  my  opinion  the  merit 
of  first  shewi)  ?  with  how  little  intellectual  ability  a  newspa- 
per may  be  C'  ducted.  I  say  not  this  in  malice,  but  in  so- 
ber sadness  ;  foi  when  Campbell  wrote  his  "  Battle  of  Hoen- 
linden,"  I  got  an  early  copy,  which  I  sent  to  Mr.  Dav  idson 
to  be  insei  ted,  but  he  with  a  sage  face  afterwards  told  me, 
that  it  was  not  worthy  of  a  place  in  his  paper.  All  the  world, 
howerer,  has  since  difiered  with  Mr.  Davidson  in  that  opin- 
ion, and  indeed  it  may  be  said  of  every  opinion  that  he  eith- 
er then  held  or  afterwards  blazoned  with  his  paper  trumpet. 
1  wonder  if  tlie  poor  man  is  still  alive.  He  stands  in  my  re- 
collection as  a  beautiful  proof  of  the  wise  ordination  of  na- 
ture, in  shewing  how  little  propriety  of  conduct  has  to  do 
with  the  endowment  of  mind.  D 


l..i 
*■■■ 


38 


THB  AUTOBIOOBAPHY  OF 


Campbell  began  his  poetical  career  by  an  Ossianic  poem, 
which  was  published  by  bis  schocl-fellows  when  he  was  on- 
ly thirteen.  At  fifteen,  he  wrote  a  poem  on  the  queen  of 
France,  which  was  published  in  the  Glasgow  Courier.  At 
eighteen,  ,he  printed  his  elegy  called  "  Love  and  Mad- 
ness ;"  and  at  twenty-one,  before  the  finishing  of  his  twen- 
ty-second year,  The  Pleasures  of  Hope. 


Pai 

fore 
ma^ 
Par 
tha< 
of] 

denj 


ip. 


JOHN  GALT. 


89 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Course  of  reading.  A  great  victory.  G^'Hc  antiquities. 
Ode.  Tragedy  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Worhs  illus- 
tralive  of  Scottish  history. 

In  the  mean  time,  my  reading  was  extensive  and  various ; 
chiefly,  however,  among  books  of  knowledge  rather  than 
those  of  imagination.  Not  that  I  had  any  predilection  for 
works  of  that  kind  ;  but  they  were  indirectly  recommended 
to  me  by  my  friend  Park,  who,  I  thought,  now  and  then  bored 
me  with  his  maxims  of  utility.  He  led  the  way  in  our 
course  of  reading;  but  1  obtahied  at  last  a  great  victory^ 
over  him. 

The  late  Dr.  Leyden,  one  of  the  original  writers  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review,  in  preparing  to  go  to  India,  resolved  to 
publish  a  new  edition  of  Wilson's  descriptive  poem  of  "  The 
Clyde,"  a  composition  of  considerable  merit,  with  a  memoir 
of  the  author.  In  this  undertaking  he  applied  to  the  poet's 
daughter  for  anecdotes,  and  as  an  acquaintance,  she  applied 
to  me. 

Wilson  had  been  grammar-schoolmaster  at  Greenock,  and 
Park  had  been  one  of  his  pupilS;  and  also  a  Mr.  Hugh  Craw- 
ford, who  was,  when  Leyden  ^made  the  apnlication,  chief 
magistrate  of  the  town.  It  was  in  consequence  agreed,  that 
Park  and  the  baillie  should  draw  up  their  recollections,  and 
that  I  should  arrange  with  Mrs.  Wilson  a  connected  sketch 
of  her  father's  life. 

When  the  three  papers  were  ready,  and  sent  to  Dr.  Ley- 
den, on  receiving  them  he  returned   thanks,  and  bestowed 


*^1' 


rf 


40 


THE   AL'TOBIOGKArilT   OF 


great  laud  and  praise  on  my  paper,  witliout  particularly  noti- 
cing the  other  two  communications.  This  made  me  not  a 
little  proud,  and  still  more  so  to  see,  when  the  work  was  pub- 
lished, that  my  article  was  frailfed,  if  I  may  so  speak,  in  his 
biograpliical  sketch ;  indeed,  with  a  little  enlargement,  his 
life  of  Wilson  prefixed  to  the  poem  is  mine.  With  a  view  to 
this  composition  I  have  tried  to  recover  Dr.  Leyden's  letter 
on  the  occasion  ;  but  in  the  course  of  time  it  has  fallen  aside, 
and  cannot  now  be  found.  Beinjj  from  home  when  the  Doc- 
tor's  letter  arrived,  Park  wrote,  telling  mc  of  the  preference 
my  paper  had  obtained,  dolorously  lamenting  the  fate  of  his 
own  lucubration  and  the  baillie's. 

I  should  not  omit  to  mention  a  very  laughable  error  jof  which 
I  was  guilty  in  this  affair.  When  the  poet  was  appointed 
to  tiie  school,  the  magistrates,  for  "  good  and  substantial 
reasons  best  known  to  themselves,"  stipulated  that  he  should 
forego  poetry,  and  in  speaking  of  the  stipulation,  I  said  that 
it  was  required  in  taking  charge  of  the  school,  that  he  should 
cea^e  to  cultivate  "  the  protane  and  unprofitable  art  of  poem- 
making."  I  had  nothuig  in  view  save  a  fling  at  the  boss- 
headed  baillies,  but  Dr.  Lcyden  took  the  joke  as  no  jest,  and 
with  foot  advanced  and  hand  uplifted,  declaimed  on  the  Presby- 
terian bigotry  at  great  length,  as  may  be  seen  in  his  book 
even  unto  this  day.  ' 

About  this  time  T  had  several  works  in  hand,  and  was 
over  liead  and  cars  in  the  depths  of  Gothic  antiquities 
some  how  prompted  by  rinkorton's  Disserlation  and  Mallet's 
Researclies.  However,  I  was  providentially  rescued  by  an 
error  of  the  press,  when  I  transmitted  a  lucubration  to  the 
Edinburgh  Magazine,  to  which  Park  and  I  became  stealthy 
contributors:  It  was  a  most  recondite  essay  on  Polytheism* 
in  which  an  essential  name  was  wrong  spelt ;  the  mistake, 
though  but  in  one  letter,  was  so  absurd,  that  it  brought  on 
such  a  fit  of  laughing,  by  which  all  my  antiquarian  vapours 
were  dispersed,  and  I  never  could  abide  to  thmk  of  the  sub- 
ject with  gravity  enough  to  resume  it  afterwards.     The  es- 


JOHN   GALT. 


41 


say,  with  all  its  imperfections  on  its  head,  is  in  the  October 
number  of  the  year  1802. 

By  the  way  a  tale  hangs  about  those  occult  intrigues  with 
the  Edinburgh  Magazine.  They  began  with  a  dim  and  dis- 
tant version  of  the  eighth  ode  of  the  first  book  of  Horace, 
which  I  attempted  to  do  into  Scotch. 

This,  unknown  even  to  Park,  I  sent  to  the  magazine ;  when 
lo,  the  editor  published  the  ode  in  the  body  ot  the  magazine 
soliciting  further  communications.  Of  course  I  was  not  long 
of  disclosing  the  secret  to  Park,  and  from  that  time  we  grew 
into  occasional  contributors.  . 

Not  being  very  well,  and  obliged  to  keep  my  room,  I 
wrote  a  tragedy  on  the  story  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  It 
was  before  Graham's  Mary  Stuart,  and  I  thouglit  it  a  fine 
thing;  no  doubt  it  was  dreadful  enough.  What  became  of  it 
I  know  not. 

Being  ever  in  the  habit  of  apportioning  my  time,  not  so  much 
by  regular  subdivisions  as  by  giving  to  each  task  a  certain 
allotment,  I  have  had  a  great  deal  more  leisure  than  most 
men ;  till  latterly,  since  I  lost  the  power  of  being  active 
Thus  it  happened,  though  my  antiquarian  pursuits  were  aban- 
doned, I  betook  me  to  the  composition  of  a  poem,  imitating 
the  style  of  the  Edda.  To  this  work  I  gave  two  hours  eve- 
ry Sunday  evening.  Respecting  its  merits  or  faults  notice 
will  be  taken  when  I  come  to  speak  of  the  publication ;  but 
it  is  necessary  to  mention  here,  that  two  parts  of  it  were  sent 
to  the  magazine,  in  April  1803  and  January  1804,  and  with 
the  manuscript,  I  mentioned  having  formed  a  design  of  illus- 
trating the  Scottish  history  by  tales  and  poems. 

But  it  was  reserved  for  a  greater  genius  to  anticipate  me. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  has  done  what  wayward  fortune  obliged 
me  to  renounce.  I  shall,  however,  have  occasion  to  notice 
a  still  more  singular  anticipation.  At  the  same  time,  it  should 
be  observed  that  I  do  not  propose  to  mention  every  work  un- 
dertook or  scheme  designed:  but  only  such  as  had  some 
bias  on  my  conduct  and  led  to  effects. 

D  4 


n 


43 


THE  AUTOBIOORAPUY  OF 


CHAPTER.  X. 


Conclusion  of  the  first  epoch,  . 

When  the  fulness  of  time  was  conic  that  I  wus  ordained  to 
leave  Greenock,  tJio  proximate  cause  was  not  known  to  more 
tlian  two  or  three  persons,  nor  will  I  say  it  altogether  in- 
duced me  to  leave  the  place,  but  undoubtedly  it  precipitated 
the  resolution  to  do  so.  *     ■ 

The  first  revolutionary  war  had  contributed  to  form  in  Glas- 
gow  a  number  of  purse-proud  men,  who  neither  had  the  edu- 
cation nor  the  feelings  of  g-enthunen.  One  of  these  persons,  in 
some  matter  of  business,  wrote  to  our  concern  a  most  abusive 
letter.  It  came  by  the  post  late  in  the  evening-,  and  I  re- 
ceived it  in  the  counting-house.  - 

My  blood  boiled,  and  I  determined  to  have  an  apology.  Ac- 
cordingly, I  sent  lor  Mr.  Ewing,  and  declared  to  iiim  my 
intention  ;  and  having  supped  at  hoMie,  I  mentioned  that  some 
business  would  call  me  to  Glasgow  in  the  morning.  At  an 
early  hour  I  set  oil;  but  on  my  arrival  there  the  delinquent 
was  gone  to  Edinburgh.  I  posted  alter,  and  reached  tho  Turf 
CotFee-house  about  four  o'clock.  On  sending  for  him  to  his 
tavern,  he  had  gone  to  Leith  to  dinner ;  but  where  I  could 
not  learn.  At  nine  o'clock  I  again  sent  for  him,  as  a  stran- 
ger, and  as  he  was  at  home  he  immediately  came.  On  en- 
tering the  room  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  showed  him  the 
letter,  inquiring  if  he  wrote  it.  He  at  once  acknowleged 
it,  and  said  it  was  done  in  a  passion.  "  That,"  replied  I, 
"  will  not  do  for  me,  I  must  have  a  written  apology  for  sending 
such  an  unmannerly  production." 


JOHN    OALT. 


43 


At  first  he  refused,  and  dwelt  upon  a  man  not  being  able 
sometimes  to  restrain  his  feelinga 

At  this  moment  a  waiter  came  into  the  room  for  some- 
thing or  another ;  I  followed  him,  and  requesting  not  again 
to  be  interrupted,  bolted  the  door. 

My  man  was  a  good  deal  surprised  at  this,  but  still  refused, 
and  bade  me  go  to  law.  I  made  no  answer;  but  taking  out 
my  watch,  laid  it  on  the  table ;  by  the  time  it  wanted  ten 
minutes  of  ten,  and  I  said  firmly, 

"  At  ten  o'clock  I  expect  a  letter  from  you,  until  then  we 
can  have  no  conversation ;  but  the  door  is  bolted,  and  1  shall 
take  care  we  are  not  interrupted ;"  leaning  with  my  back 
against  the  door.  He  addressed  me  several  times,  but  I  made 
no  answer.  Before  the  ten  minutes  expired,  as  I  had  writing 
materials  ready,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  an  apology.  Wish- 
ing him  good  night,  I  said  that  I  would  not  know  him  again, 
never  liaving  been  introduced  to  him. 

.After  this  exploit  I  had  my  supper,  eating  it  with  no  great 
appetite.  At  eleven  o'clock  at  night  1  ordered  a  post-chaise 
for  Glasgow ;  but  in  the  course  of  my  journey  many  things 
came  to  n)iud,  and  instead  of  going  home  to  Greenock  I  di- 
verged to  Irvine,  and  tlicnce  apprised  my  father  and  Mr. 
Ewing  of  my  intention  to  quit  Greenock. 

My  fatlier  and  mother  came  immediately  to  me,  and 
brought  with  them  what  I  sliall  ever  esteem  as  a  very  broth- 
erly letter  from  Mr.  Ewing;  but  my  resolution  was  fixed 
tliough  it  was  not  carried  into  effect  till  many  months  afler. 
This  was  the  proximate  motive  for  my  coming  to  London 
where  I  had  neither  friend  nor  acquaintance,  a  forlorn  adven- 
turer as  fcould  well  be. 

On  the  morning  when  I  bade  adieu  to  Greenock,  my 
father  accompanied  me  in  the  post-chaise  w^hich  was  to  con- 
vey mo  early  enough  to  meet  the  London  mail-coach  at 
Glasgow.  Tiie  air  was  bright  and  calm,  but  I  was  exceed- 
ingly depressed.  During  the  first  stage  scarcely  a  word  was 
exchanged,  and  while  the  horses  were  changed  at  the  Bish- 


>'.. 
V 


^ 


44 


THK    AU  rOBIOOHAPIIY    OF 


opton  inn,  the  usual  Btajye  in  those  days  between  Greenock 
and  Glasgow,  I  walked  back  on  the  fields  alone  with  no  buoy- 
ant heart. 

^^^^  The   view  towards  Argyleshiro  from  the  brow  of  the  hill, 

i|^  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  picturesque  in  the  world.  I  have 
since  seen  some  of  the  finest  scenes,  but  none  superior.  At 
the  time  it  seemed  as  if  some  pensive  influence  rested  on 
the  mountains,  and  silently  allured  me  back ;  and  this  feeling 
was  superstitionsly  augmented,  by  happening  in  the  same 
moment  to  turn  round  and  beholding  the  eastern  sky  which 
lay  in  the  direction  of  my  journey,  sullenly  overcast. 

On  returning  to  the  inn,  the  horses  had  been  some  time 
in  harness,  and  my  father  was  little  impatient  at  my  absence, 
but  conjecturing  what  was  passing  in  my  mind,  said  little,  nor 
did  we  speak  much  to  each  other  till  the  waiter  of  the  inn 
opened  the  door  for  us  to  alight  at  Glasgow.  In  truth,  I  was 
not  blind  to  the  perils  which  awaited  me,  but  my  obstinacy 
was  too  indulgently  considered. 

The  remainder  of  the  journey  to  London  was  not  distin- 
guished by  any  adventure;  we  reached,  the  Bull  and  Mouth 
Inn,  and  rested  there  till  after  breakfast,  when  we  adjourned 
to  the  Globe  Tavern  in  Fleet  Street,  resolving  so  long  as 
my  father  remained  in  London  to  reside  there. 

My  life  at  Greenock  for  some  time  prior  to  my  departure 
from  the  town,  and  the  fatigue  of  the  journey,  made  me  rath- 
er unwell,  so  that  till  after  dinner  1  felt  inclined  to  stay  in 
the  house  and  go  again  to  bed. 

On  different  occasions  I  have  attempted  to  describe  the  feel- 
ings of  a  stranger  when  he  first  arrives  in  London,  but  all 
of  them  are  mitigated  compared  with  what  I  experienced. 


JOHN  UALT. 


',•'»■ 


SECOND  EPOCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Introductory  Letters.     Scarcely  of  (my  use.     Discovered  a 
Partner.     The  Result. 

I  BROUGHT  to  London  a  whole  mail  of  introductory  Ifittcri', 
the  delivery  of  which  afforded  inc  a  curious  view  of  human  isfi* 
ture.  My  reception  by  the  different  gentlemen  to  whom  thry 
were  addressed  was  various:  doubtless  the  consequence  or 
the  degree  of  intimacy  with,  or  obligation  to,  the  writers  vf 
the  letters.  Some  received  me  with  cordiality;  others  f.ool- 
ly ;  but  several,  who  had  been  particularly  prosperous,  did  nol 
evince  any  very  peculiar  gratitude  fur  the  favours  of  fortune. 

To  three  or  four  gentlemen  I  had  letters  from  different 
individuals,  and  in  delivering  them  I  happened  to  observe  m 
what  manner  they  respectively  looked  at  them,  an  evidence 
which  led  me  to  inter,  from  this  tacit  action  something  of  iha 
value  I  might  attach  to  the  introductions:  nor  were  my  con* 
elusions  erroneous. 

From  those  who  opened  the  letters  of  their  hr.siness  corres- 
pondents first,  the  augury  was  not  favourable:  but  the  result 
was  different  when  the  letters  of  private  friends  were  prefer- 
red ;  especially  when,  besides  that  preference,  the  subsequert 
conversation  was  directed  to  ascertain  on  what  footing  i  hivi 
stood,  with  the  writers.  According  to  the  degree  of  ':.y  inti- 
macy was  the  friendliness  of  my  reception. 

When  I  had  delivered  all  my  letters',  av.1  received  many  in- 
vitations to  dinner,  it  became  very  listinr;'.  that  none  were  like- 
ly to  be  of  any  use  in  furthering  my  views,  and  I  concluded 
that  every  thing  depended  on  fiiyself.    The  discovery  was  not 


46 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 


■# 


exhilarating;  on  the  contrary,  it  made  me  for  some  time  mo- 
rose; but  when  I  had  thought  better  of  it,  the  mood  changed, 
growing  a  little  sterner  than  previously,  and  more  systematic 
than  my  former  acquaintance  could  probably  have  supposed. 

Finding  no  assistance  to  be  derived  from  others,  I  began  to 
look  about  for  myself,  and  discovered  a  most  suitable  connec- 
tion; a  Mr.  M'Lachlan,  from  our  part  of  the  country.  '  Ho 
was  a  delicate  young  man,  endowed  with  many  qualities 
that  made  him  interesting;  mgenuous  in* his  disposition,  and 
possessed  of  much  to  make  him  an  agreeable  companion. 

A  copartnery  was  in  consequence  formed,  and  its  success 
equalled  our  most  sanguine  expectations ;  but  it  had  not  been 
long  established  when  Mr.  M'Lachlan  became  restless,  and 

then  proposed  to  spend  a  short  time  with  his  friends. 

The  excessive  warmth  with  which  my  consent  was  receiv- 
ed surprised  me,  and  was  increased  to  something  like  amaze- 
ment at  the  suddenness  afterwards  of  his  departure. 

He  had  been  engaged  in  business  before  we  came  together, 
but  as  sufficient  time  had  elapsed,  I  believed  all  his  transac- 
tions were  closed.  Scarcely,  however,  had  he  left  town,  when 
my  attention  was  excited  towards  them,  and  I  learned  that  he 
had  not  paid  off,  but  had  only  renewed  his  bills.  This  disco- 
very led  to  inquiry ,"and  it  was  soon  ascertained  that  he  was 
insolvent,  not  to  a  great  amount.  The  bills,  however  were 
paid,  and  I  wrote  to  him  what  had  been  discovered. 

His  conduct,  when  he  knew  I  was  acquainted  with  the  fact, 
and  what  was  done,  was  truly  exemplary.  He  immediately 
returned  to  town,  evincing  himself  in  all  respects  possessed 
of  the  integrity  and  qualities  for  which  he  had  at  first  been 
trusted ;  but  the  concealment  could  not  be  overlooked,  and 
accordingly  he  was  at  once  told,  that  though  our  connection 
should  continue,  yet,  save  in  the  counting-house,  we  must 
be  strangers.  * 

For  twelve  months  we  never  exchanged  words  except  on 
matters  of  business,  but  at  the  expiry  of  a  year,  as  he  had 


JOHN  OALT. 


47 


amply  satisfied  me,  I  proposed  the  renewal  of  our  former 
intimacy,  nor  was  there  ever  after  occasion  to  rue  the  recon- 
ciliation. His  death  prodigiously  affected  me ;  I  deemed  him 
fortunate  in  the  event,  and  his  father  wrote  me  that  his  last 
words  were  an  expression  of  good  wishes  for  my  welfare. 

Mr.  Park  was  acquainted  with  the  whole  transaction,  and 
his  letter  expressed  what  he  thought  of  it. 

"Almost  immediately  after  sending  off  my  letter  on  Friday, 
I  was  informed  by  your  brother  of  the  favourable  state  of 
affairs ;  with  what  satisfaction  I  need  not  attempt  to  say. 
This  event  gives  me  the  more  pleasure,  as  it  is  so  clearly  the 
result  of  your  own  management  and  perseverance,  as  Mr. 
M'Lachlan  makes  no  difficulty  in  declaring,  that  he  is  entire- 
ly indebted  to  you  for  the  preservation  of  his  son,  and  that  it 
was  your  representations  alone  that  determined  him  W  the 
step  he  has  taken.  I  trust  that  matters  are  now  in  such  a 
train  that  though  they  may  give  you  some  further  trouble, 
they  will  never  agam  occasion  such  vexation  as  you  have 
experienced  for  some  time  past." 

I  ought  to  mention  here,  that  when  Park  was  informed  of 
my  embarrassment,  he  made  me  an  offer  of  all  his  ready  mo- 
ney ;  but  fortunately,  I  did  not  require  it.  It  was  spontane- 
ously proposed  by  himself,  and  belongs  to  tho;i3  traits  of 
friendship,  that  I  delight  to  recollect,  and  enjoy  pleasure  more 
than  in  acknowledging.  '^^ 


€M: 


i^i 


V 

ft 


$^ 


48 


THE   AUTOIilOGIlArilY   OF 


m  .        CHAPTER  II. 

Six  months  in  London.  Change  of  Character.  My  first 
Publication.  Gothic  Poem.  Battle  of  Largs.  Criticisms. 
Mysteries.     Diplomacy.     Suppression  of  the  Poem. 

During  my  first  idle  six  months  in  London, my  time  was  spent 
by  day  in  seeing  sights,  and  by  night  in  the  theatres  or  in 
reading,  save  when  I  happened  to  be  engaged.  This  routine, 
thougii  duJI,  gave  me  a  lively  impression  of  the  disconsolate 
condition  of  him  who  has  nofi'iend  in  Babylon.  But  the  irk- 
someness  sharpened  my  turn  for  observation,  and  having  more 
leisure  at  my  command  than  I  had  ever  before  possessed,  the 
effect  was  obvious,  insomuch  as  to  draw  from  Park,  with 
whom  I  regularly  corresponded  some  notice  of  the  change : 
he  thought  it  was  to  my  advantage,  for  ho  says  in  a  letter 
written  in  little  more  than  three  months  after  our  separation, 
"Your  improvement  is  apparent  e /en  in  your  letters,  and  I 
had  designed  to  mention  it  to  you,  even  if  you  had  not  your- 
self introduced  the  subject.  You  have  several  passages  which 
I  am  confident  any  man  of  taste,  who  did  not  know  you  would 
pronounce  to  be  written  by  a  person  habitually  eloquent.  As 
I  have  not  room  for  examples,  I  shall  only  bring  to  your  recol- 
lection one  sentence  in  your  last  letter,  where  you  describe 
Impudence  gaining  admission  into  the  temple  of  Fortune,  by 
•elbowing  here,  and  creeping  between  the  legs  of  statlier 
Ability  there,'  an  expression  worthy  of  Burns  in  his  most  in- 
dignant moments." 

My  letters  were  delivered  to  me  by  Mr.  Park's  brother  , 
after  his  death,  and  1  flung  the  parcel  into  the  fire,  but  hope 
there  is  no  idle  vanity  now  in  referring  to  any  commendation 
that  implied  praise  to  my  youth.  I  was  then  an  aspiring 
young  man,  "  the  world  was  all  before  me,"  but  that  is  past. 
If  there  were  blossoms,  they  have  come  to  no  fruit. 


■■/*•• 


johh  oalt. 


':t 


49 


Helpless,  forgotten,  sad,  nnd  lame 
On  one  lone  seat  the  live  long  day, 
.1  I  muse  of  youth  and  dream  of  fame, 

Vt  And  hopes  and  wishes  all  away.  /  '  •  : 

.  ■•       ■  -•'", .  ■■  '  '  "    " 

*  No  more  to  me  with  carol  gay,  * 

Shall  mounting  lark  from  pasture  rise, 

Nor  breezes  bland  on  upland  play, 

,.     ,  -       ■  ,        Nor  far  fair  scenes  my  steps  entice. 

Ah,  never  more  beneath  the  skiee, 
';  The  winged  heart  shall  glowing  soar,  '    's 

Nor  e'er  be  reach'd  the  goal  or  prize,— 
The  spells  of  life  enchant  no  more.    ,       -  ■    ^  .• 

'        The  burning  thougiit,  the  boding  sigh,  ' 

The  grief  unnam'd  that  old  men  feel, 
-    Tlie  languid  limbs  that  withering  lie,  ' 

■         Tlie  powerless  will's  effectless  zeal; 
'      All  these  are  mine,  and  Heaven  bestows  •       '-;>   - 

The  gifts,  but  siill  I  And  them  woes. 

When  I  look  back  on  the  period  alluded  to,  many  things 
obtruded  upon  my  recollection,  little  heeded  at  the  time,  but 
which  no  doubt  contributed  to  the  change.  Indeed  from  the 
event  that  hastened  my  departure  from  Greenock,  there  must 
have  been  some  visible  modification  of  character  about  me ; 
for  I  remember  that  Park  one  morning,  when  speaking  to 
him  of  Forsyth's  Essays,  as  remarkable  compositions,  inquir- 
ed which  I  thought  most  of,  and  when  I  mentioned,  "On 
,  decision  of  character,"  he  said,  gravely,  that  he  was  sorry  to 
hear  it,  for  he  had  been  afraid  to  direct  my  attention  to  that 
paper,  as  bethought  it  calculated  to  encourage  a  bias  of  mind 
in  me,  which  should  rather  be  repressed.  But  although  de- 
cisive, I  was  not  rash,  I  only  seemed  to  be  so,  for  it  was  not  my 
disposition  to  disclose  resolutions  till  they  were  to  be  carried 
into  action;  they  were  not  the  wiser,  however,  by  being  so 
considerately  formed  ;  I  only  know  that  rashness  never  belong- 
ed to  me,  even  while  I  acknowledge  myself  the  tool  of  im- 
pulses.— Park  did  not  suspect  the  existence  in  me  of  a  consti- 
tutional quality,  which  in  latter  years  has  had  great  influence, 
namely — a  self  absorption,  which  has  very  much  the  appear- 
ance of  absence  of  mind,  it  is  in  fact,  however,  intense  ear- 
nestness.   But  as  I  may  probably  hereailer  publish  the  few, 

E 


w^ 


ijl 


<P 


50 


Tir^'   AUTODIOoaAPHY    OF 


but  beautiful  relics  and  letters  of  Park,  no  more  need  be 
.  said  on  this  subjecthere.., 

Our  corresponden(8e  consit^ted,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
of  an  exchange  of  thought.  I  have  recently  looked  over  his 
letters,  and  they  forcibly  recall  the  spirit  of  our  conversations  ; 
they  are,  perhaps,  the  finest  specimens  extant  of  communica- 
tions not  intended  for  the  public  eye.  They  shew  too  truly 
how  often  I  stood  in  need  of  his  advice,  reminding"  me  of 
what  A! fieri  says  of  the  preceptive  fricndsiiip  of  Count  Balbi 
to  whom  he  owed  so  much.  -.      - 

In  little  more  than  a  month  after  the  letter  just  quoted,  T 
resolved  to  publish  my  Gothic  poem  of  "the  Battle  of  Largs," 
from  sheer  want  of  something  else  to  do.  Specimens  may  be 
seen,  shockingly  printed,  in  the  Scot's  Magazine  of  April, 
1808,  and  January,  1804;  notwithstanding  friend  Park's  opin- 
ion of  it,  they,  however,  display  considerable  power  and  crigi- 
nality.  But  as  a  proof  of  the  freedom  which  prevailed 
between  us,  I  will  give  his  sentiments  at  full  length,  and 
the  good  natured  reader  will,  T  hope,  not  be  offended  with  the 
prolixity. 

''2' November,  1804. 

"The  appearance  of  a  letter  from  you,  out  of  the  regular 
order,  gave  me  a  very  agreeable  surprise,  but  my  emotion  was 
increased  tenfold  when  I  saw  the  contents,  and  learned  you 
were  so  soon  to  make  your  dehut  in  the  literary  world. — 
Since  matters  are  this  length,  I  am  sorry  for  the  dissuasive 
against  publication  which  I  addressed  to  you  in  my  last;  but  I 
assure  you  it  was  more  seriously  expressed  than  meant.  *  * 
*  *  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  anxiety  about  a  proper  pre- 
face. I  consider  it  ns  the  most  important  part  of  a  book,  as  it 
is  what  the  reader  generally  first  looks  to  and  thus  often  deter- 
mines its  fate  on  the  hook-seller's  counter.  Theone  you  have 
written  does  not  altogether  please  my  taste,  and  as  criticism  is 
a  very  tedious  thing,  and  takes  up  a  great  deal  of  room,  I 
thought  it  would  be  easier  for  myself,  and  also  Ynore  satis- 
factory to  you,  to  attempt  something  according  to  my  own 


I 
\ 

a 

2 


JOHN  OALT. 


51 


ideas,  which  you  will  find  within.  I  turned  and  polished  it 
with  all  the  care  I  am  master  of,  as  a  neat  conciseness  is  the 
proper  style  of  preface  writing.  Do  not  scruple  to  alter  it  to 
your  own  taste,  or  even  to  reject  it  altogether  if  it  does  not 
please  you ;  if  it  should  furnish  you  wiili  only  a  single  hint  or 
expression,  I  shall  think  my  pains  well  bestowed.  I  left  out 
the  promise  of  notes  to  the  second  edition,  partly  because 
such  intimations  are  apt  to  hurt  the  sale  of  the  first  imi)ression 
and  partly  because  I  think  they  have  somewhat  the  air  of 
beseeching  public  favour. 

"I  agree  with  you  in  thinking  an  inscription  or  a  dedica- 
tion improper  in  an  anonymous  work.  If  my  name,  which  you 
kindly  hint  at,  were  prefixed  in  this  way,  it  would  at  once 
disclose  the  whole  secret  to  all  our  acquaintance.     *    * 

"  I  shall  not,  therefore,  waste  time  on  the  sonnet,  but  pro- 
ceed to  an  examination  of  your  introductory  verses.  "  The 
Roman  lamp,  line  third,  may  do,  but  I  do  not  like  '  the  Gre- 
cian fire,'  which  in  this  place  has  no  distinct  meaning.  '  Pine 
clad  cliffs',  is  rather  a  harsh  combination  of  sounds.  The 
four  lines  beginning  with  'Solemn  hymns'  are  admirable, 
particularly  the  third  line — 

"Bugle  blasts  of  chivalry  and  war,"  &c. 

But  those  which  follow  are  so  very  much  inferior,  that  I 
would  exclude  them  altogether,  nor  do  I  think  they  are  at 
all  needed.  To  save  time,  I  shall  set  the  poem  down  with  the 
alterations  I  would  suggest,  that  you  may  see  how  it  looks. 

"  Unlieaid  in  s-ocrecy's  low  vaulted  coll. 
Thclouely  Muse  attuned  the  sounding  shell, 
f      No  temple's  cclio  to  her  voice  replied, 
Where  awful  shade?-  with  memory  reside. 
••         Yet  through  the  clcfted  rock's  romantic  form, 
,^     Kindling  the  clouds  that  drifted  on  u.e  blurm. 
The  setting  sun  would  dart  a  fiery  li;,'lil. 
And  milder  moonshine  tinge  the  jiloDm  of  night; 
•     ■     '  .      The  solemn  hymns  by  holy  organs  pealed,  . 

.    •.    .        *     ^    From  ancient  abbeys  half  ill  trees  concealed. 
And  bugle  blasts  of  chivalry  and  war, 
From  the  high  battlement  resountling  far, 
"    "  .  Swelled  on  her  ear,  and  b'ending  in  her  thought, 

-  A  mimic  strain  of  ancient  rudeness  tauyht. 


[     I 


52 


THE   AUTOBIOOHAPIIY   OF 


n 


This  is  sufficiently  lon^,  and  appears  to  me  to  compre- 
hend every  thing  that  it  would  be  proper  to  say  on  the  occa- 
sion. I  shall  be  impatient  till  I  hear  from  you  again  about  so 
interesting  a  business,  let  me  know  particularly  how  soon  you 
will  be  published,  the  expense  of  printing,  &c.  By  the  way, 
you  ought  to  be  very  careful  in  correcting  the  press,  as  the 
printers  are  apt  to  neglect  accuracy  in  their  attention  to  ele- 
gance. Try  if  you  cannot  make  a  better  line  for  '  milder 
moonshine,' &c.,  if  not,  it  will  do  well  enough." 

In  the  next  letter.  Park  says,  on  the  same  subject, — 

"14^A  November,  1804. 

♦'  1  am  glad  that  the  preface  met  your  approbation ;  but 
you  are  surely  not  in  earnest  when  you  talk  of  acknowledg- 
ing such  a  trifle.  lam  of  your  opinion  with  regard  to 
and  will,  therefore,  take  the  first  opportunity  to  make  him 
promise  silence.  How  soon  will  you  be  advertised.  I  could 
wish  that  the  moment  your  book  is  ready  for  publication  you 
would  send  me  a  copy  by  the  coach,  as  I  shall  be  all  impa- 
tience till  I  see  !(,." 

What  ensued  I  do  not  recollect ;  but  I  was  in  Scotland,  and 
find  the  next  letter  from  Mr.  Park,  dated  the  16lh  of  Februa- 
ry, 1805. 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  surprised,  and  I  doubt  not,  in  a  state  of 
hot  displeasure,  that  I  have  not  answered  your  letter  sooner 
my  apology  is,  that  for  nearly  a  fortnight  past  I  have  been 
from  home,  chiefly  in  Edinburgh,  and  only  relumed  yesterday 
evening.  I  have  some  alarming  intelligence  for  you  from  that 
city,  no  less  than  that  the  arch  critic  (Mr.  Jeffrey)  has  or- 
dered your  book  from  London,  for  the  purpose  of  being  brought 
to  trial  before  his  dread  tribunal.  Moreover,  Constable  has 
discovered  the  author !  I  supped  at  his  house  the  night  before 
I  left  Edinburgh,  when  he  took  occasion  to  mention  the  Bat- 
tle of  Largs  as  a  new  publication,  and  asked  me  if  I  had  seen 
it.  Alarmed  at  the  question,  I  endeavoured  to  turn  it  oflf,  by 
saying  that  I  had  seen  it  advertised  as  the  Battle  of  Largs; 


JOHN  OALT. 


5a 


f 


but  I  found  it  would  not  do.  *****  As  I  clearly- 
perceived  ft'om  his  manner,  that  he  knew  the  whole  secret 
thought  it  best  to  make  a  voluntary  disclosure,  for  the  sake 
of  obtaining  his  promise  not  to  mention  any  thing  of  the  mat- 
ter. He  made  me  this  promise  very  readily,  but  I  am  a  lit- 
tle doubtful  whether  he  will  be  quite  scrupulous  in  keeping 
it,  especially  as  the  communication  was  rather  extorted  than 
confidential;  he  said  however,  that  he  would  do  what  he  could 
for  promoting  the  sale,  and  I  believe  his  influence  in  this  res- 
pect will  be  of  advantage :  his  opinion  of  Highly  is  that  ho 
is  a  slow  man  and  not  well  calculated  for  doing  a  work  jus- 
tice as  a  publisher.  I  need  scarcely  add,  that  whether  the 
book  will  be  reviewed  or  not  depends  entirely  upon  the  editor." 

In  a  letter  of  the  26th  of  Februarv : — 


*' Now  for  the  Battle  of  Largs;  your  observation  on  my 
want  of  diplomatic  address  in  the  negociation  with  Constable 
is  1  think  unmerited,  for  after  considering  the  whole  affair  at 
my  leisure,  I  could  not  find  that  1  could  with  propriety  have 
acted  otherwise  than  I  did,  nor  do  I  now  see  that  any  good 
can  arise  from  writing  to  Constable  on  the  subject,  as  all  and 
more  than  you  have  suggested  1  said  to  him  in  my  conver- 
sation with  him." 

It  does  not  appear  that  after  this  letter  any  thing  more  was 
said  by  Mr.  Park  respecting  the  poem,  further  than  that  by 
way  of  illustration  he  thought  it  only  poetical  in  passages, 
and  that  the  freedom  of  my  prose  style  shewed  more  ability 
but  I  rather  think  from  something  mentioned  in  a  letter  af- 
terwards that  I  must  have  early  communicated  to  hinnt  my  in- 
tention to  suppress  the  work.  I  do  not  recollect  by  what 
motive  I  was  induced  to  this  determination,  but  he  congratu- 
lates me  on  the  resolution,  for  I  wrote  a  great  deal  of  rhyth- 
mical trash,  though  occasionally  not  all  bad. 


\ 


i . ._  f    ..  ,^ 


'4»    l-' 


E  5 


54 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


f  :■■  * 


f   "■  f* 


CHAPTER  III. 

An  amiable  treat  of  human  nature.  Anecdote  of  Lord 
Erskine.  Mr.  Archibald  Thomson,  the  engineer.  Singu- 
lar  instance  of  gratitude. 

Except  business  in  the  forenoon  and  study  in  the  evening,  the 
time  passed  with  me  in  London  in  an  even  tenor ;  and  I  still 
regret  how  much  circumstances,  and  of  lato  my  lameness, 
have  prevented  me  from  associating  so  intimately  as  I  have 
wished  with  early  friends.  I  ought  not,  however,  to  omit  no- 
ticing my  experience  of  one  of  those  agreeable  instances  of 
the  amiable  in  human  nature  which  has  always  kept  the  world 
to  me,  bad  as  others  say  it  is,  sweet  and  relishing. 

Soon  after  coming  to  London'  I  had,  at  the  request  of  a 
friend,  endeavoured  to  recover  payment  of  a  bill.  Something 
in  the  letter,  now  forgotten,  induced  me  to  call  myself;  it 
was  on  Mr.  Archibald  Thomson,  the  engineer,  an  honest,  sim- 
ple, and  ingenious  man,  the  inventor  of  the  machinery  for 
making  ropes. — At  that  time  he  was  in  a  course  of  experi- 
ments by  orders  from  Messrs.  Pitt  and  Dundas,  and  he  very 
frankly  told  me  that  just  at  the  time  he  could  not  pay  the  bill, 
but  said  that  as  soon  as  possible  he  would  do  it,  and  that  till  his 
experiments  were  completed  it  was  protracting  the  period  of 
payment  to  molest  him.  Something  in  his  manner  interested 
me  and  1  consented  to  give  him  indulgence,  but  said  all  de- 
pended on  the  good-will  of  the  person  who  was  the  holder  of 
the  bill.  I  would  not,  however,  be  the  instrument  of  puttingf 
him  to  any  trouble. 

The  incident  had  nothing  remarkable  in  it,  but  after  a  long 
period  had  elapsed  I  saw  him  with  surprise  enter  my  room. 

The  object  of  his  visit  was  soon  told.  He  was  acquainted 
with  Lord  Erskine,  at  that  time  chancellor,  and  had  spoken 


JOHN   OALT. 


55 


with  him  respecting  some  flaw  in  an  agreement  with  another 
party.  His  lordship  advised  him  to  get  a  statement  of  his 
case  drawn  up,  requesting  him  to  bring  it  himself,  when 
he  would  give  him  the  best  advice  in  his  power.  In  conse- 
quence he  came  to  me  to  whom  he  related  the  particulars. 
Struck  with  the  incidents  I  at  once  promised  to  draw  up  a 
narrative  of  what  he  said,  requesting  him  to  call  next  morn- 
ing. When  he  came  it  was  ready,  for  my  only  endeavour  was 
to  make  the  case  as  plain  and  concise  as  possible. 

From  me  he  v/ent  to  Lord  Erskine,  whom  he  found  at  home 
and  who  immediately  received  the  paper.  On  opening  it  his 
lordship  said  it  was  not  drawn  up  by  a  professional  man, 
nevertheless  it  might  bo  to  the  point,  and  accordingly  he 
perused  it  thoughtfully,  and  as  Mr.  Thomson  afterwards  told 
me,  expressed  himself  pleased  with  the  document,  advising 
him  what  to  do. 

A  very  considerable  time  after  I  met  Thomson  in  a  coffee- 
house which  I  was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting,  saying  that  he 
had  come  on  purpose  to  see  me,  and  mentioned  that  he  felt  ho 
had  been  much  obliged  to  me,  at  the  same  time  was  anxious 
to  show  his  gratitude. 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you,"  said  he, "  that  a  proposal  has  been 
made  to  me  to  make  a  steam-boat  for  the  Thames,  (there 
was  none  on  the  river  at  that  time,)  and  to  offer  you  one  of 
my  shares  if  the  project  goes  on." 

Greatly  struck  with  the  circumstance  I  expressed  myself 
much  obliged,  but  declined  of  course  a  gift  so  disproportioned 
to  the  service.  Never,  however,  could  I  think  of  him  after- 
wards without  experiencing  a  peculiar  feeling,  his  conduct 
was  at  once  so  extraordinary  and  good. 

1  became  afterwards  intimate  with  him  to  his  death,  and 
have  ever  cherished  a  more  than  common  respect  for  his  me- 
mory. Nothing  I  had  done  was  more  than  one  man  should  do 
for  another ;  moreover  I  afterwards  learned  he  had  come  to  me 
to  state  his  case  at  the  suggestion  of  a  mutual  friend. 

One  of  his  observations  when  speaking  of  his  case  was  so 
true,  and  yet  so  simple,  that  I  have  never  forgotten  it    In  al- 


i 


't 


56 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


lusion  to  Ihe  little  reward  he  had  obtained  for  his  ingenuity, 
he  remarked,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  springing  from  the  will, 
"  What  is  the  use  of  my  inventing  1" 

Not  aware  of  the  particular  result  of  the  controvery  in 
which  Lord  Erskine  was  his  friend,  I  cannot  say  how  tar  it 
was  entirely  successful,  especially  as  the  parties  with  whom 
he  was  at  issue  were  my  own  acquaintance,  and  I  did  not 
chooao  to  inquire  ;  but  I  shall  ever  remember  with  particular 
pleasure  the  native  honesty,  combined  with  a  singular  me- 
chanical genius,   in  this  unpretending  man. 


'.#t«r 


^ 


JOILN   OALT. 


57 


CHAPTER  IV. 


m 


Studies  in  London.     Family  historieti.     Metaphysical  obser- 
vations.   Crimes  and  pitnislunents. 

I  DID  not  relax  in  my  endeavours  to  fill  my  mind  with  that 
kind  of  knowledge  which  might  prove  useful  in  tlie  mercan- 
tile profession,  but  still  for  recreation,  as  the  bow  could  not  be 
ah. ays  bent,  I  amused  myself  with  belles  lettres  studies.  On 
these  Park,  who  was  acquainted  with  my  pursuits,  gave  some- 
times more  advice  than  was  always  requisite.  He  seemed  to 
consider  excellence  in  literature  as  of  a  more  sacred  nature 
than  ever  I  did,  who  looked  upon  it  but  as  a  means  of  influ- 
ence ;  indeed  it  is  but  few  authors  who  are  very  enviable ;  it 
is  a  poor  trade. 

Notwithstanding  I  have  put  together  many  books,  and  be- 
come so  various  an  author,  it  has  been  rather  in  consequence 
of  the  want  of  active  engagements  than  from  a  predominant 
predilection  for  the  art.  I  would,  no  doubt,  unless  my  time 
had  been  fully  occupied  with  business,  have  still  been  an  au- 
thor, but  would  have  followed  the  promptings  and  impulses  of 
my  own  taste  instead  of  thinking  of  what  might  be  profi- 
table. Al\  the  time  I  was  in  Canada  I  never  thought  of 
study,  wholly  wrapt  up  in  busmess,  it  seemed  to  furnish  a 
theme  for  literature,  to  which  distinction  in  letters  was  some- 
thing inferior.  It  has  been  only  when  I  had  nothing  else 
.    to  do,  that.l  have  had  recourse  to  this  secondary  pursuit. 

My  studies  while  in  business  were  truly  exemplary,  at  least 
1  never  met  with  any  companion  who  employed  his  leisure 
better.  I  made  myself  master  very  early  of  the  Lex  Mer- 
catoria,  not  merely  by  reading  it  through,  but  by  studying  it 
as  necessary  to  my  progress  in  the  world.  1  composed  a  trea- 
f,#  tise  on  the  practice  of  underwriting,  as  sanctioned  by  the 
existing  laws  and  the  decisions  of  tribunals :  chagrin  at  the 


»  I' 
t 


5.S 


THE    AUTOIJIOOUArilY   OF 


cloud  which  overcame  my  prospects  uiduced  me  to  destroy 
tlie  muimscript.  I  composed  also  a  history,  to  the  time  of 
Edward  III.  inclusive,  of  the  ancient  commerce  of  En^^iand, 
a  work  of  rc8enrch;and  wrote  likewise  a  history  of  bills  of 
exchange,  tor  although  always  a  desultory  student  I  now  and 
then  read  in  veins  and  strata,  pursuing  particular  objects  with 
ardor,  directness,  and  assiduity.  I  say  not  this  in  vanity,  but 
in  proof  of  the  ambition  with  which  J  was  actuated — a  man 
whose  purposes  of  life  are  passed  may  be  allowed  to  say  so 
much  with  impunity  ! 

But  besides  literary  lucubrations,  difTeront  designs  wore  on 
the  carpet ;  for  1  soon  took  a  distato  to  mere  pastimes,  not 
however  in  any  degree  secluding  mysoli',  though  ceasing  to 
relish  parties  which  offered  only  amusement.  In  this  state  of 
preference  for  serious  inquiries  I  count  myself  singularly 
fortunate,  in  liaving  formed  an  acquamtance  with  a  Mr. 
James  Hamilton,  who,  in  addition  to  superior  qualifications  for 
busines",  united  a  remarkable  taste  for  llimily  history  and  her- 
aldry, with  a  bias  for  the  finer  workings  of  tiie  mind  such  as  is 
rarely  met  with.  In  liis  society  and  in  liis  house  I  have  pas- 
sed njy  iiappiest  evenings.  His  wife  possessed  many  amiable 
qualities,  but  above  all  the  admirable  tact  of  perceiving  what 
was  agreeable  to  her  husband,  and  the  good  sense  to  endeav- 
our to  i)rocurc  it.  With  them  I  was  for  years  at  home  ;  nor 
is  it  the  least  of  my  losses  to  deplore  the  death  of  the  one 
and  the  absence  in  a  foreign  country,  probably  for  ever,  of 
the  otlier.  ^      ',  ,       :^', 

From  Hamilton,  without  regular  study,  I  am  conscious  of 
having  derived  a  complete  knov.'ledge  of  families,  their  des- 
cents, and  connexions,  and  rare  recondite  things  of  heraldry 
that  makes  me  seem  learned  in  that  hieroglyphical  language 
to  many  who  affect  to  have  studied  it  more.  If  ever  this 
work  should  fall  into  his  hands,  he  will  regret  to  hear  that  a 
friend,  who  must  ever  remember  him  with  emotion,  is  three 
parts  already  dead,  and  whose  adventures  are  now  closed. 

But  although  I  still  consider  Hamilton  as  one  of  the  most 


JOHN  OALT. 


50 


accomplished  of  my  oarly  frionfls  in  London,  I  folt  that  with 
him  thorc  was  not  all  that  confidenco  which  endeared  tho 
recollection  of  more  youthful  cuinpaniouH.  In  his  house,  howev- 
er, 1  learnt  an  invidious  lesson.  IIo  was  naturally  hospi- 
table ;  had  frequently  parties;  and  beinj^  in  business  his  gucsta 
were  often  of  a  mixed  kind,  who  in  themselves  furnished 
food  for  observation.  I  was  in  consequence  led  occasionally 
to  observe  soine  of  the  characters  at  iiis  table  with  no  com- 
mon scrutiny.  The  result  was  an  inference  which  subsequent 
experience   confirmed. 

It  appeared  to  me  tliai  thoso  destined  to  rise  higher  in 
the  world  had  about  thcnn  soinethino;  vv'.iich  indicated  their 
superiority.  It  could  not  bo  described,  but  every  thing  about 
them  shewed  as  it  were  that  thoy  panted  for  a  higher  ele- 
ment; a  second  class  were  (piitc  at  their  ease,  and  I  con- 
cluded that  they  found  themselves  in  their  station ;  but  the 
third  were  altogether  persons  whom  an  iidierent  awkward- 
ness marked  as  out  of,  and  above  their  sphere,  to  which 
they  were  destined  to  sink. 

This  sort  of  semi-philosophy  did  not  occur  however  to  mo 
suddenly,  I  was  long  of  making  much  progress  in  it,  but  at  last 
it  served  to  explain  many  phenomena,  and  made  me  so  sharp- 
sighted  as  seldom  to  make  a  mistake.  But  this  power  of  di»- 
crimhiating  character,  which  is  an  attaininent  that  study  may 
acquire,  is  not  much  calculated  to  increase  a  man's  enjoy- 
ment. One  does  not  like  to  think  disparagingly  of  others 
without  some  better  reason  than  their  manner  of  behaving 
themselves  in  society,  especially  in  a  time  when  the  destinies 
of  the  world  seem  averse  to  any  improvement  in  the  condi- 
tion and  circumstances  of  man. 

The  world,  at  the  time  I  made  this  remark,  was  beginning 
to  develope  to  me  its  real  peculiarities,  and  the  phantasies 
with  which  the  youthful  imagination  invests  things,  to  vanish, 
as  the  mists  of  the  morning  dissolve  before  the  rising -day. 
Mankind  became  more  individualized,  and  though  there  was 
perhaps  no  diminution  in  my  collective  estimate  of  the  race, 


it 


II 


ed 


THB  AVTODIOGItAPHY  OF 


some  rose  higher  and  others  fell  lower  in  my  opinion :  man- 
ners appeared  to  be  more  an  index  to  fortune  than  a  conse- 
quence 

At  this  time,  also,  1  know  not  now  from  what  cause,  I 
entered  upon  a  curious  course  of  observation  in  which  I  made 
some  proficiency,  at  least  it  is  now  allowed  that  the  discrimi- 
nation of  character  is  among  the  most  remarkable  of  my  pre- 
tensions. I  cannot  describe  the  course  of  the  study  nor  how 
the  effects  may  be  turned  to  any  account,  but  still  of  their 
*  truth  there  can  be  no  doubt.  It  appeared  to  me  casually  that 
the  fortunes  of  individuals  were  wonderfully  alike,  that  is  to 
say,  each  person  in  his  fortunes  did  not  so  much  resemble 
another  person  as  in  the  sameness  obvious  m  the  incidents  of 
his  own  fate. 

When  a  man  was  prosperc  his  prosperity  seemed  to  extend 
to  all  about  him,  and  when  tiie  reverse,  his  domestic  circum- 
stances p?i  ook  of  the  disasters  that  blighted  his  public  for- 
tunes. The  old  adage,  "  It  never  rains  but  it  pours,"  was 
confirmed. 

In  metaphysical  researches  of  this  kind  my  attention  was  of- 
ten engaged,  and  if  other  and  more  serious  cares  had  not 
intervened,  I  would  probably  have  been  able  to  reduce  the 
fruits  of  these  inquiries  into  something  like  a  system  :  the  use 
of  it  is  howev  not  very  clear.  But  no  one  questions  the 
utility  ot  the  sublime  mathematics,  though  it  very  seldom 
happens  that  mathematicians  can  tell  the  use  of  them.  The 
cares  of  business,  however,  before  my  theories  were- ripe, 
began  to  derange  my  philosophy. 

I  should  not,  however,  omit  to  mention  an  occurrence  in 
this  epoch  that  has  had  a  great  effect  in  colouring  my  mind 
from  its  original  hue.  The  structure  of  the  mind  was  not 
changed,  but  certainly  its  complexion  ;  and  when  I  state  the 
cause  the  reader  will  little  think  it  was  adequate  if  he  is  an 
ordinary  man,  and  if  extraordinary,  he  will  regard  me  as 
strangely  aflected.  I  allude  to  the  impression  which  an  ar- 
ticle in  the  Edinburgh  Review  made  on  me,  respecting  the 
works  of  Filanghieri,  the  Neapolitan. 


JOHN  GaLT. 


61 


CHAPTER  V. 

Crimes  and  sins.    Ilow  considered  by  legislalures.     They 
are  diseases.     Effects  of    the  French  revolution. 

Without  any  previous  consideration,  excepting  the  work  of 
Beccaria  on  Crimes  and  Punishments,  always  to  me  unsat- 
isfactory, I  stumbled  by  a  sort  of  accident  on  the  inquiries  of 
Filanghieri:  and  few  intellectual  productions  have  excited  me 
so  much.  He  appeared  to  have  discovered  a  right  road 
to  truth,  but  was  not  bold  enough  to  pursue  it.  With  much 
thai  he  affirmed  and  deduced,  I  was  willing  to  go  hand  and 
glove,  but  he  seemed  afraid  of  conmiitting  himself  by  stat- 
ing what  he  thought  of  crimes  and  sins. 

After  an  agitating  view  of  his  philosophy  I  began  to  frame 
a  new  doctrine  for  myself,  by  which  sins  seemed  the  bases 
of  crimes,  although  there  were  crimes  of  a  very  deep  die,  of 
which  the  original  sins  were  comparatively  not  deemed  hein- 
ous. From  this  distinction,  I  inferred  that  crimes  were  pro- 
scribed by  the  laws  of  society,  but  that  sins  were  things 
against  the  system  of  nature,  and  that  legislatures  never 
thought  of  interfering  with  them,  but  left,  their  punishment 
to  the  re-action  of  nature.  The  conclusion  was  opposed  to 
the  doctrines  of  Beccaria,  inasmuch  as  crimes  and  sins  came 
to  be  regarded  as  the  offspri.^g  of  diseases  or  constitu- 
tional secretions,  which  made  punishment  necessarily  nugato- 
ry. I  agreed  with  Moses,  l.owever,  no  bad  authority,  that  put- 
ting to  death  was  the  only  way  of  getting  rid  of  malefictors. 
In  a  word,  that  puuisiunont  for  example,  showed  but  a  shal- 
low knowledge  of  human  n;\ture,  and  that  it  would  be  just 
as  wise  to  expect  a  man  could  be  cured  of  the  scrofula  by 
punishing  another  more  afflicted  with  that  malady,  as  to  hope 

F 


62 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


that  a  criminal  could  be  won  from  his  propensities  by  siiow- 
ing  him  others  incurring  the  penalty  of  malpractices. 

Whether  this  view  was  sound  or  insane,  I  have  not  since 
attempted  to  inquire,  but  the  influence  of  the  doctrine  has 
had  a  surprising  eflect,  in  at  once  softening  pity  for  the  guilty, 
and  increasing  sternness  for  the  infliction  of  punishment. — 
As  we  confine  madmen,  we  incarcerate  delinquents :  they 
but  differ  in  their  diseases.  However,  it  is  perhaps  fortu- 
nate for  the  world,  that  notions  of  this  kind  are  not  common, 
nor  have  I  been  able  to  discern  how  such  a  morbid  inference 
may  be  drawn  from  the  reflections  of  Filanghieri.  I  say 
morbid,  but  I  think  the  contrary,  for  it  appears  even  now,  that 
humanity  is  more  consulted  in  the  mitigation  of  punishment 
than  a  wise  policy  derived  from  the  nature  of  man.  Our  dis- 
eases or  offences  are  manifold,  and  society  is  not  willing  to 
touch  more  of  them  than  is  requisite  for  keeping  the  social 
community  in  order ;  we  are  in  society,  held  together  by 
ties  more  slender  than  we  are  willing  to  believe.  The 
dissolution  of  the  social  order  by  the  French  revolution  has 
given  a  lesson   which  has  not  yet  been  sufficiently  studied. 


JOHN   GALT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


:) 


Free   trade.     Differ  from  the  government  'plans.     An  in- 
cident with  respect  to  Upper  Canada.  ^       ,,,. 

In  this  period  I  was  indefatigably  industrious,  but  still  greatly 
regret  my  misspent  time,  for  the  industry  was  but  barren  toil. 
Nothing  came  of  my  work,  and  the  buds  were  blighted  on  the 
point  of  beginning  to  disclose. 

In  addition  to  the  studies  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, I  paid  attention  to  the  science  of  political  economy,  by 
endeavouring  to  acquire  some  knowledge  of  its  principles. — 
But  I  very  soon  discovered  that  they  were  perplexed  and 
embarrassed  by  the  subdivision  of  the  earih  into  separate  na- 
tions. The  existence  of  that  subdivision  seemed  to  me  to  pre- 
sent insurmountable  obstacles  to  the  establishment  of  that  right 
commercial  system  to  which  the  French  merchants  alluded  in 
their  famous  "  laissez  nous  faire"  to  Turgot,  and  that  wc 
were  in  consequence  only  allowed  instead  of  a  science  the 
consideration  of  that  policy  which  political  circumstances  re- 
quired; still  I  conceived  that  we  could  more  nearly  approxi- 
mate to  it  than  we  had  done. 

I  have  since  been  very  proud  of  this  anticipation  of  public 
opinion,  and  may  now  speak  of  it  soberly  as  a  sound  prac- 
tical view.  The  inference  was  entirely  my  own,  and  the 
voucher  of  the  historical  fact  was  published  in  the  Philo- 
sophical Magazine  at  the  time,  long  before  public  attention 
was  drawn  to  the  subject. 

My  pursuits,  especially  with  respect  to  the  free  trade  ques- 
tion, made  me  ready  when  the  discussion  arose,  to  take  a  part 
in  it  with  more  maturity  than  most  people,  and  accordingly 
in  my  little  circle  I  was  soon  known  as  the  opponent  of  the 
Huskissonian  charlatanry.     I  use  the  word  because  no  other 


64 


THE   AUTOUIOGllAPHV   OF 


presents  itself  to  me  at  this  moment  which  so  fully  expresses 
my  opinion,  at  tlie  same  tunc  I  really  believe  that  he  posses- 
sed some  hazy  honest  glimmerings  of  truth.  It  only  never 
appeared  to  me  that  he  understood  what  he  talked  about, 
and  no  clearer  proof  may  be  adduced  than  such  a  total  oc- 
cultation  to  him  of  the  system  of  nature,  as  to  imagine  any 
measures  of  human  legislation  could  suddenly  alter  the  ordi- 
nations of  Providence.  Why,  the  Christian  religion  is  in  its 
nineieenth  centiu-y,  and  though  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the 
excellence  of  his  morality,  mankind  are  not  yet  arrived  at 
such  a  state  of  improvement  as  to  be  practically  ruled  by  it. 
No  doubt  trade  is  in  a  state  of  perfectibility  as  well  as  man, 
but  even  the  coffin  of  England  will  be  rotten  before  the  world 
can  be  in  a  condition  to  abrogate  the  usages  of  commercial 
policy. — Huskisson's  doctrines  were  supposed  by  himself  to  be 
founded  on  science,  and  yet  every  Ihie  of  his  precepts  was 
regulated  by  the  maxims  of  expediency.  His  in&ufficiert  in- 
formation might  have  been  pardoned,  for  its  effects  were 
doomed  to  resolve  themselves  to  dust  in  t'^e  next  age,  but 
his  unstatesman  like  dabbling  with  all  that  needed  only  re- 
form, not  revolution,  is  still  lamented  by  thousands,  exclaim- 
ing, how  is  it  after  eighteen  years  of  peace  that  we  are 
thus  dragged  by  an  invisible  power  into  a  "  lower  depth"  of 
insatiable  poverty  I 

But  let  me  not  here  be  misunderstood,  for  loudly  as  I 
would  condemn  the  crude  theories  of  Mr.  lluskisson,  T  do 
not  maintain  that  all  the  manipulations,  as  they  may  be  called^ 
of  liis  free  trade  policy,  were  erroneouss. — Tiie  improved 
knowledge  of  the  age  suggested  to  him  the  necessity  of  wv- 
eral  better  regulations  in  the  practice  of  commerce  than 
had  previously  existed,  but  it  marks  the  dearth  of  talent 
in  the  time  that  such  an  individual  could  have  risen  amono" 
the  ministers  of  nations.  It  is  however  time  to  return  from 
this  digression,  and  to  speak  what  more  nearly  concerns  the 
object  of  these  sketclies. 

The  reader  will  recollect  what  was  said  of  the  view  of 


JOHN   OALT. 


G5 


\ 


the  Falls  of  Niagara  on  tlie  day  of  the  King  Crispin  proces- 
sion at  Kilmarnock,  to  amuse  tiie  Misses  Scot.  The  scene 
never  faded  from  my  recollection ;  but  the  most  remote  idea 
of  becoming  connected  with  the  Canadas,  never  occurred  to 
me,  although  various  circumstances  continued  to  keep  it  in 
remembrance.  Among  otliers,  a  relation,  a  schoolfellow,  went 
out  to  that  country  when  young,  and  by  him,  as  we  sometimes 
corresponded,  the  province  was  kept  in  mind;  about  tliis  time 
he  came  to  London,  and  staying  with  me  I  picked  out  of  liim 
all  the  information  I  could,  respecting  Upper  Canada;  tiie 
particulars  were  afterwards  embodied  in  a  paper,  which  pro- 
fessed to  be  a  statistical  account  of  the  country,  and  was 
published  in  the  Philosophical  Magazine. 

As  I  was  then  a  member  of  the  Society  for  the  En- 
couragement of  Arts,  I  exerted  myself  to  induce  the  Com- 
mittee of  the  proper  department  to  offer  a  medal  or  premi- 
um tor  tiie  cultivation  of  hemp  in  that  country,  and  the  en- 
deavour was  successful ;  but  I  know  not  the  effect,  only  I 
observed  in  the  Gazette,  wlien  I  first  went  to  the  province, 
an  advertisement,  which  reminded  me  of  the  circumstance. — 
Mr.  Gilkison,*  at  my  instigation,  obtained  by  tlie  late  Earl 
of  Selkirk,  in  the  tenders  for  liemp,  Canadian  liemp  to  be 
inserted:  butstill  tbe  notion  of  taking  any  particular  interest 
in  that  region  never  was  then  conceived  by  mo  ;  — the  coun- 
try became  however,  more  circumstantially  known. 

Tiiis  incident  is,  in  itself,  not  deserving  of  notice,  but  as  a 
link  in  an  important  chain  it  merits  serious  attention;  few 
biographical  sketches  with  which  I  am  acquamted,  present, 
inde*^d,  sucli  a  series  of  trans  ctions,  that  so  well  deserve 
the  epitliet  of  fatal  in  the  philosopliical  sense  of  the  tern). 

I  have  alreaay  described  the  effect  which  the  view  of  the 
Falls  of  Niagara  had  on  me,  but  what  is  there  said  conveys 
no  adequate  idea  of  the  impression.     It  has  since  struck  me 


*  By  f't*^  "'"^"  i^  imy  '•»  innitioMcd,  ilmt  yrstcrdMy  I  received  notice  of  hia 
dfuTi.  H*' fi'ii  lied  t  '  lipiff-r  Canada,  nliert'  lif  bnimlit  half  a  tnvvn!=liip  to 
s*-;!!!' un  my  piuii.  lli;  p<t«H!es>ed  some  literary  talent.  I  liave  his  iiianu- 
scripts. 

F  6 


CG 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


as  one  of  those  agitating  and  forcible  impulses  of  destiny, 
which  direct  some  men  on  in  their  course,  and  to  the  issue 
ot  their  fortunes.  Mysterious  from  its  violence,  and  the  vivid- 
ness with  which  it  has  ever  remained,  subsequent  events  seem 
to  justify  me  in  considering  it  as  belonging  to  the  concatena- 
tions of  Faie. 


5 


JOHN  GALT. 


67 


le 
a- 

I- 


I 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Embarrassments  in  business.  Go  to  Greenock.  Return  to 
London.  An  interview.  Meeting  oj  the  insolvent's  credit- 
vrs  called.     Support  from  Mr.  Gemmel. 

In  the  course  of  the  third  year  of  my  connection  with  Mr. 
M'Lachlan,  we  found  ourselves  embarrassed  by  difficulties 
that  had  overtaken  a  correspondent  to  whom  we  were  much 
obliged.  We  did  all  in  our  power  to  assist  him,  but  his  case 
was  worse  than  we  had  imagined. 

In  advance  on  a  bill  of  lading  for  bullion  which  he  sent  us, 
we  came  under  large  acceptances,  but  on  the  arrival  of  the 
man  of  war  with  the  treasure,  he  suddenly  stopped  payment 
even  before  it  could  be  lodged  in  the  Bank  of  England.  This 
step  was  exceedingly  exasperating:  we  received  the  news 
on  a  Monday  morning:  I  went  home  after  reading  the  letters 
broke  up  my  little  establishment,  and  set  off  by  the  mail  coach 
in  the  evening  to  know  how  his  circumstances  stood.  Our 
bills  were  not  then  all  due,  and  if  it  appeared  that  he  posses- 
sed the  reversion,  we  were  led  to  believe,  his  means  would 
be  equal  in  the  end  to  meet  all  difficulties. 

On  my  arrival  at  Greenock  I  was  persuaded  that  the  esti- 
mate was  not  overrated,  and  therefore  applied  to  his  friends 
txi  come  forward  and  assist.  But  in  the  course  of  the  day  I 
found  two  thousand  pounds^of  the  bills  drt:wn  on  us  had  been 
given,  to  pay  debts  to  relations,  and  that  the  other  friends 
were  indisposed  to  assist. 

That  same  evening  I  went  to  Edinburgli  and  procured  a 
warrant  of  arrest  from  the  judges  of  all  the  property  of  his 
house  that^  could  be  discovered  in  the  kingdom ;  a  similar 
warrant  had  not  been  issued  since  the  Union,  and  as  it  was 
served  by  expresses  to  every  debtor  known,  I  soon  had  the 


.:! 


66 


THK  AUTOUIOUUAPIIY  OF 


gratificntion  to  learn  that  nil  the  tangible  assets  were  stopjied 
by  this  procL'odino".  A  meeting  of  the  creditors  was  inevita- 
ble; in  the  mean  time  I  Jicard  privately  that  steps  were  taking 
to  make  the  house  who  had  brougiit  us  into  this  trouble 
bankrupt. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  creditors  T  proposed  to  identify  our- 
selves with  the  insolvents,  on  condition  that  the  money  from 
abroad  should  be  given  as  originally  destined  to  us:  a  proposi- 
tion which  was  readily  agreed  to,  and  it  was  begun  to  be  acted 
upon ;  but  in  this  crisis,  the  Danish  islands  in  the  West  In- 
dies were  blockaded,  and  another  house  for  which  we  were 
equally  pledged  was  brougiit  into  jeopardy. 

This  new  and  additional  misfortune  1  had  not  the  courage 
to  withstand,  and  seeing  wc  must  stop  payment,  returned  im- 
mediately to  London,  where  I  arrived  on  Saturday  and  gave 
my  opinion  to  Mr.  M'ljachlan  of  the  situation  to  which  we 
were  reduced.  Judge,  however,  of  my  astonishment,  when 
on  corning  along  Newgate  Street  on  Sunday  morning,  I  met 
the  gentleman  who  had  brougiit  us  into  such  trouble  full  in 
the  face.  He  had  arrived  that  morning  from  Greenock,  and 
must  have  come  off  the  day  following  my  departure. 

Greatly  struck,  I  peremptorily  required  him  to  come  along 
with  me  to  my  house,  in  which  there  was  only  a  house  keeper 
to  take  care  of  it  till  I  could  find  a  tenant. 

The  interview  at  homo  would  liave  been  a  good  scefie  in  a 
novel  or  drama,  for  although  in  no  very  obvious  state  of  ex- 
citement, my  manners  undoubtedly  felt  the  influence  of  a 
condensed  resolution.  I  incjuired,  why  he  liad  come  to  Lon- 
don, wiiere  he  was  going,  and  why  1  was  not  the  first  person 
on  whom  he  waited.  These  were  undoubtedly  proud  and  im- 
pertinent questions,  but  the  hopes  of  all  my  life  were  at  stake 
as  well  as  the  comforts  of  my  father  in  his  old  age. 

The  interrogatives  were  candidly  answered. 

I  had  explained  to  the  gentleman  in  confidence  our  new 
misfortune,  and  our  inability  to  master  it.  He  therefore  said 
that  in  thinking  of  what  I  had  informed  hiin,he  conceived  that 


' 


lOHN   OALT. 


it  was  beKt  for  him  to  be  iii  London  wlien  we  stopped  payment. 
As  to  whore  he  was  gointr,  he  answered,  to  an  agent,  nam- 
ing iiim,  ot'liis  particular  friends  to  make  arrangements  against 
the  event,  and  tiil  that  was  done,  he  did  not  intend  to  call. 

There  was  notiiing  to  object  to  this,  but  merely  in  a  general 
way  to  state  tliat  being  rumed,  I  had  resolved  not  tu  go  back 
to  Greenock. 

"Then,"  said  he,  "as  you  don't  care  about  the  Greenock 
people,  will  you   let  me  state  that  you  deceived  mel" 

No  answer  was  made  to  him,  but  I  looked  at  him  steadily 
and  immediately  after  left  the  room. 

My  partner  and  Mr.  William  Spence,  who  happened  to  be 
in  London,  were  in  the  parlour,  where  1  joined  them  in  such 
an  evident  liuster  that  they  both  rose  and  asked  what  was 
the  matter. 

Unable  to  speak,  but  turning  round  to  the  window,  I  saw 
our  strange  friend  leave  the  house,  and  presently  becoming 
more  composed,  told  theni  what  had  passed. 

With  great  prudence,  as  I  now  think,  they  made  no  remark 
on  an  occurrence  so  incredible.  I  forget  what  they  had  met 
upon  now,  but  we  agreed  to  go  to  Richmond  to  dinner,  which 
we  did,  the  impression  of  .the  transaction  of  the  morning 
sinking  deeper  and  deeper. 

We  dined  earlier  than  common ;  and  during  dinner  Spence, 
in  a  far  off  way,  began  to  express  his  doubts  if  I  had  under- 
stood the  gentleman  correctly. 

We  settled  our  bill  and  returned  immediately  to  town, 
where  I  insisted  on  Spence  going  to  the  Bull  and  Mouth,  and 
ascertaining  from  the  gentleman  still  there,  if  what  I  had  re- 
ported were  true.  We  arrived  between  nine  and  ten,  and  I 
remained  in  Newgate  Street  with  Mr.  M'Lachlan  while 
Spence  went  to  the  inn. 

We  walked  in  the  street,  and  in  a  short  time  were  joined 
by  the  others;  and  the  insolvent  came  up  to  me  and  held  out 
his  hand  in  his  usual  manner,  but  I  did  not  take  it ;  and  turning 


i 


70 


TIIC   AUTOUIOJJRAPHY   OF 


round  to  Mr.  Spence,  inquired  if  he  had  told  what  had  been 
said  and  if  it  were  correct. 

Acknowledging  that  I  was  right,  the  objectof  our  solicitude 
said  he  had  spoken  foolishly.  I  instantly  took  M'Lachlan's 
arm  and  walked  away,  who  in  the  course  of  the  walk,confes8ed 
that  if  tlie  proi)OHal  had  not  been  acknowledged,  it  was  so 
extraordinary  that  he  could  not  iiave  believed  it. 

Next  morning,  my  mind  being  made  up,  I  tdld  him  how  I 
would  act.  The  first  tiling  was  to  return  to  Scotland,  and  try 
by  calling  the  insolvent's  creditors  together,  if  they  would 
relieve  us  from  the  identification  of  our  interests  with  his  con- 
cerns, by  wliich  I  had  got  the  bullion. 

"  Wo  are  ruined  as  it  is,"  said  I,  "  but  this  improbable  mea- 
sure may  save  us;  for  if  we  arc  relieved  from  this  embarrass- 
ment, we  can  fight  our  other  difficulties." 

That  day  Spence  used  all  his  powers  of  persuasion  to  in- 
duce me  to  forgive  the  offence,  and  had  so  far  succeeded,  that 
he  took  me  to  the  lodgings  to  which  the  gentleman  had  re- 
moved. The  visit  was  merely  one  of  ceremony,  but  affecting 
to  me.  Tiie  lodgings  were  much  inferior  to  what  I  ever 
expected  to  see  him  inlmbit,  and  the  tenor  of  his  conversa- 
tion, though  in  his  usual  manner,  betrayed  his  utter  aban- 
donment of  hope. 

When  I  had  made  some  arrangement?  that  seemed  necessary 
1  went  by  the  mail  to  Scotland  to  execute  my  purpose,  and 
lost  no  time  in  carrying  it  into  effect  by  summoning  the  meet- 
ing of  the  creditors.  The  step  was  novel  and  excited  a  good 
deal  of  talk. 

Some  time  before  the  meeting  took  place,  the  insolvent  ar- 
rived from  London,  and  wrote  to  a  friend  of  mine,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander Gordon,  now  of  Great  King  Street,  Edinburgh,  supposing 
that  I  was  backed  in  that  quarter,  stating  that  I  had  called  his 
creditors  together,  and  insinuating  nothing  to  my  advantage. 

This  step  heightened  my  mdignation  into  rage,  for  Mr. 
Gordon  shewed  rae  the  letter.    In  the  mean  time  I  ascertained 


JOHN   OALT. 


H 


that  the  bills  of  the  house  at  Greenock  from  abroad  were,  in- 
stead of  four  thousand  pounds  or  thereabout,  upwards  of  four- 
teen thousand  had  appeared.  Tina  strengthened  iny  determi- 
nation, and  I  sew  no  alternative  but  only  to  make  a  full 
discloHurc  to  the  most  unlikely  man  in  all  the  neighbourhood  to 
render  any  assistance,  James  Gemmel  the  banker,  of  Green- 
ock, afterwards  of  Drumtochty  Castle ;  but  he  was  a  just  man, 
and  he  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  confidence,  that  he  told 
me  he  would  support  us  independent  of  the  banking-house  till 
1  gave  him  notice  that  he  could  no  longer  do  so  with  safety  ; 
enjoining  me,  however,  to  keep  it  secret. 


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72 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  VIIT. 

Meeting  of  creditors.    Attempt  at  relief, 
gular  trait  of  g  enerosity. 


Failure.    Sin- 


The  day  appointed  for  the  general  meeting  of  creditors  arriv- 
ed, and  a  great  number  were  present ;  about  sixty  thousand 
pounds  of  claimants.  As  the  meeting  was  called  by  uie  I  took 
the  chair,  and  stated  that  the  foreign  bills  of  the  house  had 
increased  from  four  to  fourteen  thousand  pounds,  and  that  the 
assets  in  property  were  considerably  over-valued,  in  so  much 
that  on  consulting  my  partner  wo  were  of  opinion  that  the 
aflair  would  end  in  ruin ;  and  the  only  thing  for  the  meeting 
to  consider  was,  whether  that  identification  of  our  interests 
with  their  debtors  should  be  persevered  in. 

■  "  The  debtors,"  said  I,  "  are  ruined,  and  you  cannot  change 
their  situation;  we  are  still  standing,  and  were  we  relieved 
from  our  connexion  with  you,  we  would  endeavour  to  struggle 
on.  We  cannot  pay  you  back  the  amount  of  the  treasure, 
because  it  has  been  applied  to  pay  the  acceptances  granted  on 
the  feith  of  the  consignment,  but  we  will  engage  not  to  take 
any  dividends  till  they  amount  to  the  sum  we  have  received, 
and  in  fact  place  you  as  much  as  possible  exactly  in  the  state 
in  which  you  stood  when  the  debtors  first  stopped  payment, — 
if  you  will  relieve  us  from  our  responsibility." 

To  this  proposition  no  objection  was  at  first  made,  and  the 
insolvent  with  some  of  his  friends  who  were  present,  said  no- 
thmg.  Tn  the  end  it  was  pressed  upon  me  to  take  time,  and 
one  influential  gentleman  proposed  to  give  me  seven  years ; 
but  when  he  repeated  this  earnestly,  I  said  aloud  that  no 
earthlyconsideration  would  induce  me  to  continue  the  connex- 
ion, and  that  as  1  saw  a  vote  would  not  do,  I  would  get  a  deed 
prepared,  and'call  on  every  creditor  individually  myself;  then 
leaving  the  chair,  the  meeting  broke  up. 


I 


JOHN  GALT. 


73 


• 


Immediately  after  the  parchment  was  prepared,  and  that 
afternoon  signatures  procured.  When  I  had  exhausted  the 
creditors  in  Greenock,  and  had  obtained  a  large  relief,  I  went 
next  day  to  Glasgow,  and  procured  other  signatures  to  the 
deed.  I  think  the  whole  was  above  thirty-five  thousand 
pounds,  besides  our  own  debt.  The  debts  were  fully  seventy 
thousand,  but  the  difficulty  which  occurred,  in  some  cases,  and 
the  absolute  refusal  of  those  who  had  obtained  our  bills,  in 
the  process  of  carrying  the  identification  into  effect,  to  re- 
lieve us,  decided  the  business.  Though  our  capital  was 
nominally  entire,  and  a  considerable  balance  at  the  credit  of 
our  profit  and  loss  account,  I  returned  to  London,  and  after 
settling  a  few  matters,  declared  our  establishment  bankrupt. 

Whether  in  this  transaction  I  acted  wisely  or  well,  the 
reader  can  judge ;  I  think  myself,  now  that  I  am  a  feeble  and 
ailing  man,  my  conduct  more  spirited  than  prudent,  but  there 
was  none  to  advise  me,  aud  perhaps  even  yet  I  should  do  the 
same  thing.  Our  discharge  from  our  creditors  followed  im- 
mediately, and  apparently  we  suffered  no  other  change  than 
the  dissolution  of  our  copartnery,  Mr.  M^Lachlan  went  to  hig 
father. 

In  these  affairs  I  have  to  record  a  very  singular  incident 

Among  the  letters  that  1  brought  with  me  from  Scotland, 
when  I  first  came  to  London,  was  one  which  my  sister  pro- 
cured from  the  late  John  M'Taggart's  sister, — John  M*Tag- 
gart  of  the  house  of  Kymer  and  M'Taggart.  The  manner  in 
which  he  looked  at  his  sister's  letter  when  £  delivered  it,  and 
three  or  four  times  at  me  when  he  was  reading  it,  prepos- 
sessed me  very  much  in  his  favour.  Like  others,  he  however 
merely  in  the  usual  way  invited  me  to  his  house  at  Notts 
Green ;  but  the  acquaintance  continued  to  be  kept  up  by  "  nods 
and  becks"  ever  after.  No  particular  friendship  resulted, 
only  he  now  and  then  asked  how  1  was  getting  on,  and  there 
was  something  in  the  manner  that  always  showed  kind- 
ness. 

In  the  troubles  and  shocks  that  preceded  our  catastrophe,  w« 

G 


74 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


had,  in  consequence  of  bills  from  abroad  falling  due  on  Sun- 
day and  payable  on  Saturday,  occasion  for  a  large  sum  of 
money,  for  we  could  not  reckon  on  our  own  funds  till  Monday. 
At  two  o'clock  we  were  still  a  thousand  pounds  short. 

"  Well,',  said  I,  "the  game's  up ;  our  bills  must  be  noted, 
for  we  will  not  pay  any  now.  In  our  situation  a  stoppage  is 
ruin."  . 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock  both  Mr.  M'Lachlan  and 
myself  were  becomingly  disconsolate,  and  the  worst  was 
that  a  sum  of  money  he  had  borrowed  on  honour  must  be 
constituted  a  regular  debt.  I  do  not  know  how  it  is,  but  men 
certainly  sometimes  think  much  in  a  short  space,  nor  can  I 
describe  the  process  of  thought  which  affected  me.  At  three 
o'clock  I  went  on  'Change  to  wait  for  Mr.  M'Taggart,  and 
to  ask  him  for  a  thousand  pounds  till  our  own  funds  were 
available. 

In  doing  this  I  was  entirely  impelled  by  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  received  his  sister's  letter :  the  transaction 
however  was  a  last  resource. 

I  told  him  exactly  how  we  stood,  and  what  depended  on 
keeping  our  credit  till  we  saw  how  the  land  lay.  Mr.  M'Tag- 
gart looked  at  me,  and  then  said. 

"I  will  if  I  can,  lend  you  the  thousand  pounds;  come  away 
with  me  till  I  see  the  state  of  my  banker's  account." 

Accordingly  I  accompanied  him  to  his  banker's,  where  he 
gave  me  a  check  for  a  thousand  pounds,  saying, 

"  Now  I  trust  to  your  own  honour  for  repayment." 

And  he  took  no  acknowledgment  from  me.  The  money  I 
was  enabled  to  repay  as  promised. 

This  little  affair  could  not  be  forgotten,  and  it  so  happened 
that  years  after,— I  think  he  was  then  dead, — a  carriage  stop- 
ped at  my  door  and  the  servant  brought  in  the  name  of  Mrs. 
M'Taggart :  the  whole  transaction  suddenly  brightened  in 
my  memory.  The  lady  was  shown  into  the  drawing-room» 
and  [  went  to  her. 


W' 


JOHN  O  ALT. 


76 


It  was  Mrs.  M'Taggart,  tlie  authoress  of  dramas,  and  since 
of  a  very  pleasant  work  called  the  "  Memoirs  of  a  Gentle- 
woman," her  autobiography.  She  is  still  alive,  now  nearly 
eighty,  and  'she  had  come  to  me  respecting  her  dramas. — 
Her  name,  and  the  pleasant  frankness  of  her  manners,  pre- 
possessed me  in  her  favour,  and  particularly  as  I  took  it  into 
my  head  that  she  had  been  married  to  a  relation  of  my 
friend.  I  believe  indeed  she  was,  for,  if  not  in  error,  I  have 
seen  her  since  in  young  M'Taggart's  carriage,  but 

"  To  whom  related,  or  by  wliom  begot," 

was  never  a  question ;  her  name  and  herself  were  sufficient 
recommendations.  We  are  still  very  good  friends,  but,  odd 
as  it  may  seem,  I  have  never  inquired  as  to  my  surmise 
respecting  her  having  been  married  to  a  relation  of  Mr.  M'Tag- 
gart's; so  averse  am  I  to  recall  the  past,  especially  in  mat- 
ters that  bring  up  disagreeable  recollections. 


id 

)- 

B. 

in 

n» 


-•■i 

I 


n 


THX    AUTOBIOGRAPHY  Of 


X 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Renewal  of  business.  Farce  of  the  Watch-house, 
currence.  My  brother  established  at  Honduras, 
of  Lincoln^ s  Inn.     Go  abroad.     Reflections. 


An  OC' 
I  enter 


I  was  induced,  mnch  against  my  own  will  and  opinion,  te 
renew  the  mercantile  profession.  My  brother  joined  me, 
who  possessGd  very  considerable  talent,  bu?  a  little  given  to 
the  weakness  of  speaking  of  his  deeds.  The  farce  of  the 
"  Watch-house,"  in  the  new  British  theatre,  was  v;ritten  by 
him.  Being  ill  at  the  time,  I  could  not  hold  a  pen,  and  only 
in  phrases  assisted  him ;  but  it  does  not  detract  from  his  merit 
to  say,  that  although  some  of  his  productions  show  considera- 
ble ability,  literature  was  not  his  forte.  He  had  inherited, 
however,  our  mother's  relish  of  tlie  ridiculous  and  her  incom- 
parable occasional  Scottish  phraseology. 

In  vain  I  contended  agamst  fortune.  The  excitement  I  had 
undergone  would  not  be  subdued ;  and  I  was  determined  to 
quit  commercial  business  as  soon  as  1  could  see  my  brother 
established.  In  this  juncture,  one  of  those  unforeseen  occurs 
rences  frequent  in  my  life  came  to  pass.  Mr.  Walter  Ritchie 
proposed  that  my  brother  should  go  out  to  Honduras  to  as- 
certain if  there  was  any  opening  there  for  a  new  establish- 
ment, because,  if  there  were,  he  had  an  intention  of  forming 
one  and  Tom  should  have  charge  of  it.  Accordingly  my 
brother  went,  and  on  his  retnrn  the  design  was  carried  into 
effect.    This  decided  me. 

When  Tom  sailed  the  first  time,  being  afflicted  with  a  ner- 
vous complauit,  I  was  advised  to  spend  a  short  time  at  Bath 
for  recreation.  On  his  return,  and  while  the  preliminaries 
for  the  establishment  at  Honduras  were  forming,  I  entered 
myself  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  partly  for  my  health,  as  well  as 
to  pass  the  time  before  being  called  to  the  bar,  went  abroad^ 


■f^'' 


J 


JOHN    OALT. 


77 


The  Walcheron  expedition  was  preparing,  and  the  Medi- 
terranean packet  was  embargoed  at  Falmouth  when  1  arrived 
there,  but  when  the  embargo  was  raised  I  departed  from 
England. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  inform  the  reader  that  this  crisis  of  my 
life  was  not  pleasant ;  I  would  be  justified  indeed  in  stating 
that  it  was  bitter,  but  it  serves  no  good  purpose  to  indulge 
disagreeable  remembrances.  It  could  not,  however,  be  dis- 
guised from  myself  that  I  was  about  to  be  borne  into  the 
scene  of  a  new  world,  in  which  there  was  no  reason  to  ex- 
pect that  my  chequered  destiny  would  be  changed.  But 
there  was  at  the  time  a  consoling  advantage  in  my  pros- 
pects ;  a  young  man  ignorant  of  the  world,  who  thought  him- 
self fit  for  any  thing  he  was  likely  to  undertake,  was  not 
easily  daunted. 

The  study  of  the  law  was  not  at  variance  with  my  habits ; 
it  required  less  versatility  in  the  application  of  the  mind  than 
the  profession  I  had  supposed  myself  to  have  abandoned,  not 
then  sufficiently  aware  that  the  law  requires  not  only  patron- 
age, but  a  peculiar  class  of  litigious  connexions ;  in  fact,  the 
aid  of  friends  is  as  much  wanted  in  it  as  in  any  other  calling 
or  business.  It  was  not  till  enabled  to  think  at  'cisure  of 
entering  Lincoln's  Inn,  that  I  saw  myself  incurring  more 
hazard  than  at  the  time  I  imagined. 

One  who  conceits  himself  to  be  at  least  equal  to  his  neigh- 
bours in  energy,  is  very  apt  to  make  a  false  estimate  of  the 
chances  of  life.  He  sees  that  men  only  get  forward  by  their 
own  talents,  and  it  is  not  till  he  has  obtained  some  insight  of 
the  world  that  he  discovers,  although  this  be  true,  he  is  yet 
apt  to  undervalue  difficulties  by  attending  Ijo  much  to  that 
circurastance.  At  the  outset  of  life  there  is  no  profession 
whatever  to  which  the  aid  of  friends,  he  the  individual's  tal- 
ent what  it  may,  is  not  essential.  If  he  possess  superior 
ability,  he  will  in  time,  with  the  precursor  of  friendship  make 
himself  distinguished,  but  if  he  be  only  an  ordinary  person 
be  will  never  rise  above  his  first  establishment.     At  the  time 

G  2 


78 


THE   AVTOBIOORAPUY  Of 


howe?er,  of  which  I  am  treating,  I  was  reluctant  to  believe 
this;  a  more  accurate  knowledge  of  human  rivalry,  however, 
has  left  no  room  to  doubt  the  fact,  and  it  has  reconciled  me  to 
my  subsequent  desultory  life ;  for  afterwards  it  did  not  appear 
within  the  scope  of  probability  that  1  could  have  made  my 
way  to  the  bar  to  any  satisfactory  degree  of  distinction.  No 
one  existed  on  whom  I  could  fasten  the  slightest  claim  for  as- 
sistance, nor  could  I  discern  any  chance  in  store  to  facilitate 
an  ambitious  career  by  the  law. 

With  reflections  of  this  kind,  though  not  of  so  determined  a 
caste,  I  bade  adieu  to  England,  half  desiring  that  no  event 
might  occur  to  make  me  ever  wish  to  return,  and  yet  for  this 
morbid  feeling  1  had  no  cause.  Nothing  in  the  world  had  oc- 
curred to  make  me  greatly  averse  to  it ;  even  the  extraordina- 
ry conduct  of  my  debtor  seemed  the  effect  more  of  a  mental 
aberration  than  of  design,  at  all  events  he  was  not  actuated 
from  the  workings  of  his  own  mind,  so  much  as  by  the  sugges- 
tions of  one  more  intimately  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  man- 
kind ;  he  was  only  a  tool  in  a  more  skilful  hand.  Often  and 
often  since  have  I  endeavoured  to  understand,  how  it  was 
possible  for  a  man,  possessed  of  a  fair  measure  of  understand- 
ing, to  think  another  could  endure  such  a  series  of  actions,  as 
he  developed  towards  those  of  whom  he  had  unfortunately 
been  the  ruin.  But  as  I  had  thrown  myself  like  a  die  from 
the  dice-box  in  my  London  adventure,  I  felt  no  fear  in  this 
voyage.  It  would  have  been,  however,  rather  ludicrous  to  have 
braved  the  storm  like  Cnesar,  with  the  brag  of  my  fortune; 
butsomethinglikea  sentiment  of  the  same  kind  undoubtedly 
sustained  me. 


4 


*'4 

^1 


JOHN    OALT. 


79 


THIRD  EPOCH. 


n 


CHAPTER  I. 

First  meeting  with  Byron.  Land  at  Cagliari.  Dine  with 
the  Ambassador.  Byron's  grandiloquent  thanks  to  him 
Byron  and  Hothouse  wait  in  the  packet  to  be  saluted  at 
Malta.  Guns  sulky.  Byron  and  Hobhouse  reduced  to 
a  state  of  beggary.  Relieved  by  Mr.  Chabot.  Hospital- 
ity  of  the  Maltese  merchants. 

On  the  day  of  my  arrival  at  GibraHar  I  first  became  acquain- 
ted with  the  celebrated  Lord  Byron.  The  meeting  was  pure- 
ly accidental ;  T  was  proceeding  to  the  Mediterranean  in 
quest  of  health,  and  happened  to  be  on  board  the  same  packet 
in  which  his  lordship  embarked  for  Malta.  In  my  biographi- 
cal sketch  of  that  distinguished  nobleman,  I  have  mentioned 
the  circumstances  of  our  first  recounter,  and  it  is  not  very  ne- 
cessary to  repeat  them  minutely  here,  at  the  same  time,  they 
cannot  with  propriety  be  omitted,  though  to  those  familiar  with 
the  original  account,  it  may  seem  superfluous. 

While  sitting  in  the  garrison  library  r  young  man  came 
in  and  seated  himself  at  one  of  the  table;  opposite  to  me 
His  dress  indicated  a  metropolitan  of  some  fashion  ;  it  was 
neat  and  simple,  with  so  much  peculiarity  as  served  to  show 
that  he  was  not  altogether  a  common  beau. 

His  face  appeared  not  unknown  to  me,  and  I  began  to  con- 
jecture where  I  could  have  seen  it.  It  was  prepossessing 
and  intelligent,  but  ever  and  anon  he  gathered  his  brows,  a 
habit  which  I  afterwards  discovered  might  be  the  scowl  of 
unpleasant  reminiscences:  his  general  physiognomy,  how- 
ever, was  impressed  with  elegance  and    character,   but  in 


80 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


a  much  inferior  degree  to  those  who  have  seldom  seen  him. 
and  who  have  worked  out  of  their  imaginations  a  being  eo 
beautiful,  as  to  little  resemble  him. 

1  dined  that  day  with  Colonel  Wright,  the  secretary  of  the 
fortress,  with  a  large  party,  among  whom  was  the  Countess 
of  Westmoreland,  with  Tom  Sheridan  and  his  accomplished 
lady.  Sheridan,  in  relating  the  local  news,  mentioned  that 
Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Hobhouse  had  |come  in  from  Spain  in- 
tending to  proceed  up  the  Mediterranean. 

Hobhouse  had,  some  time  before  1  left  London,  published 
certain  translations  of  classic  poems,  rather  respectable  in 
their  way  if  poetry  not  excellent  can  be  respectable,  but 
they  are  defunct ;  and  Byron's  name  was  in  ridiculous  odour 
with  me  by  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and  his  English  Bards 
and  Scotch  Reviewers, — a  satire  then  in  some  repute,  since 
become  famous  in  consequence  of  the  merit  of  subsequent 
productions. 

In  embarking  1  recognized  the  visitor  to  the  library,  and 
he  proved  to  be  Lord  Byrcn  ;  while  the  luggage  was  hoisting 
on  board,  his  lordship  kept  his  "  state,"  which  made  me 
suspect  him  of  pride  and  irascibility,  while  his  frowning  fore- 
head began  to  awaken  wonder  and  beget  conjectures. 

Our  passage  to  Sardinia  was  calm  and  pleasant.  About 
the  third  day  Byron  relented  from  his  rapt  mood,  and  seemed 
disposed  to  contribute  his  fair  proportion  to  the  general  en- 
deavour to  while  away  the  lediousness  of  a  dull  passag»«.  Of 
the  two  travellers,  Hobhouse  was  upon  the  whole  the  most 
agreeable  and  told  stories  with  some  humour,  but,  I  doubced 
then,  if  he  were  as  truly  facetious  as  his  friend  in  those  hours 
when  the  fit  of  pleasantry  was  upon  him. 

As  we  approached  the  Gulf  of  Cagliari,  a  strong  breeze 
came  trom  the  land,  ^  and  we  had  a  whole  disagreeable  day 
of  tacking  up  against  it.  Next  morning,  however,  we 
found  ourselves  at  anchor  near  the  mole  where  we  land- 
ed. In  the  evenmg,  we  dined  with  Mr.  Hill,  the  British 
minister  and  on  this  occasion,  Byron  and  his   companion 


* 


1 


JOHN  OALT. 


81 


dreaaed  themselves  as  aides-de-camp,  which  to  me  was  a  mys- 
tery and  a  marvel,  as  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  belonged 
to  the  army ;  and  I  must  say  it  was  a  finery  that  did  not 
augment  the  sense  of  either  ui  my  estimation. 

After  dinner  we  all  went  to  tlie  theatre,  which  was  bril- 
liantly illuminated  on  account  of  some  court  festival.  The 
royal  family  were  present,  and  the  opera  was  performed 
with  more  taste  than  might  have  been  expected  in  so  remote 
a  place,  and  under  the  restrictions  which  rendered  the  inter- 
course with  the  continent  then  so  difficult. 

When  the  performance  was  over,  Mr.  Hill  came  down  with 
Lord  Byron  to  the  upper  gate  of  the  town,  wliere,  as  we 
were  taking  leave,  his  lordship  thanked  him  with  more  el- 
ocution than  was  precisely  requisite,  indeed  it  was  something 
in  your  "harlotry  playeis'"  style,  and  the  formality  amused 
Hobhouse,  as  well  as  others.  Byron,  who  really  fancied  that 
he  had  acquitted  himself  with  grace,  and  dignity,  and  ore  ro- 
tundo,  took  the  banter  of  his  friand  amiss,  and  became  pe- 
tulent;  but  Hobhouse  walked  on:  while  his  lordship  on  ac- 
count of  his  lameness  and  the  roughness  of  the  pavement, 
took  hold  of  my  arm,  appealing  to  me  if  he  could  have  tsaid 
less  after  the  hospitable  treatment  we  had  received. — Of 
course,  though  I  thought  pretty  much  as  Mr.  Hobhouse  did 
I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  laud  his  elocution,  especially 
as  his  lordship's  comfort  seemed  in  some  degree  dependent 
on  being  confirmed  in  his  good  opinion  of  himself.  From  that 
time,  I  was  more  distinguished  by  his  familiarity,  but  his  un-^ 
certain  temper,  which  our  residence  on  shipboard  together 
made  apparent,  rendered  his  favour  precarious,  and  not 
worth  the  trouble  of  a  man,  who  had  any  respect  for  himselfjt 
cultivating.* 


*  The  occasion  seems  to  be  appropriate  for  introducing  the  remarks  made  on 
tiic  noble  poet,  by  Mr.  Gait,  in  bis  Life  of  Lord  Byron,— at  the  lime  hercre« 
(ierred  lo. 

Editor. 

''  Byron  was,  during  the  passage,  in  delicate  health,and  upon  an  abstemious 
regimen.  He  rarely  tasted  wine,  nor  more  than  half  a  glass,  mingled  with 
water,  when  he  did.  He  ate  little  ;  no  animal  food,  but  only  bread  and  veget. 
dtilet.    ^6  reminded  ^meof  the  gowl  that  picked  rice  with  a  needle  ;  for  it 


:*« 


83 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


Having  landed  the  mail  for  Sicily  at  Girijonti,  we  stretched 
over  to  Malta,  where   we  arrived  about  noon  next  day.     All 

wan  iiiniilft!8t,  thnt  lie  li.'ul  not  ncqiiired  bis  knowlril^'e  nf  the  world  by  al- 
ways dining  »(•  .-piurly  If  my  renicnibriinco  is  not  trtaclieroiis,  he  only 
spent  one  itvenliiK  ill  l\u'  cnliiii  \xitli  lis — llieeveiiinK  lieCore  we  cuinc  tu  anchor 
at  CuRlliiri ;  lor,  when  the  liglii^  were  placed,  he  made  himself  a  man  forbid, 
took  lii:4Htniion  on  llie  railing  between  the  pt'KH  on  which  the  tlieetti  are  bfi- 
layoil  and  the  HliroiuN,  and  there,  for  lioiirH,  nat  iiiHilciice,  eiiumoiired,  it  may 
he,  ofthemoiiii.  /Ml  these  peculiniiiio,  wi;h  IiIh  caprie.et*,  and  HoiaethinK 
inexpliculile  in  the  (  ai-t  of  hin  ineiaphyRU  s,  while  they  tiervi^d  to  awaken 
intetei>t,  coiiinbutid  liitle  to  ciinciliaie  eHicein.  lie  wa8  often  Htrangely  rapt*- 
it  may  have  bein  I'loin  iiis  (fi'iiiiis  ;  and  liiid  it!<i  {irundt  ur  and  darkiieHti  been 
then  divulued,  Hiiriceplible  of  cvplanalion  :  but,  at  tliu  lime,  it  threw,  as  it 
were,  around  liiiii  tlie  h^k  ki  Imli  of  pt  nitenre.  Bitting  amidi^t  the  nliroiids  and 
rattliiiuH,  in  iIk' iriini|iiillity  ni'ihc  iiiooii  jiulit,  chiirmiiiK  an  Inarticulate  melo- 
dy, he  »ieemi'd  alnioBi  appatiiioiial,  HU):ue>tiiig  dim  reminiiteeiiceHof  him  wiio 
nliHi  the  albutros.  lie  was  aa  a  mystery  In  a  winding-sheet  crowned  with  a 
halo. 

The  Infliicnre  of  ihe  iiicompreliciisil'le  phnntnaina  which  hovered  about 
Lord  Hyron,  has  bc(  II  iiKire  or  less  fell  by  all  who    ever   approached  him.— 
That  he  Bometiniet:  came  mit  of  the  cloud, and  wuh  familiar  and  earthly  ,18  true; 
but  his  dwellini;  was  amidst  the  murk  and  the  mist,  and  the   home    of  his 
fipirit  in  the  nbysm  of  the  siorm,  and  the  liidiiii!  {ilnceH  of  puill.    He  wa8,at 
the  time  of  whirh  I  um  speaUiiiij,  scatci  ly  two  and  twenty,  and  could  claiRi 
no  higher  praise  than  havin<»  wriiien  a  clever  wordly minded  satire  ;  and  yet 
It  was  impoBsible;  even  tlu'ii.  to  reflect  on  the  liias  of  \na  mind,  as  it  waa  re- 
vealed by  tliecasiialiiies()f(  onversaiion,  without  experiencing  a  presentiment 
that  he  was  destined  to  execute  some  singular  and  ominious  purpose.     The 
description  lie  has  given  of  Manfred  in  Ills  youth,  waa  of  himself. 
My  spirit  walk'd  not  with  the  souls  of  men. 
Kor  look'd  upon  the  earth  with  human  eyea; 
The  thirst  of  their  ambition  was  not  mine  ; 
The  aim  of  their  existence  was  not  mine. 
My  joys,  my  griefs,  my  passions,  and  my  powers, 
Made  ine  a  stranger.    Tliough  Twote  the  lorm, 
1  had  no  sympathy  with  breathing  flesh' 
My  joy  was  in  the  wilderness— to  breathe 
The  difficult  air  of  the  iced  mountain's  top, 
Whers  the  birds  dare  not  build,  nor  insect's  wing 
Flit  o'er  the  herdless  granite !  or  to  plunge 
Into  the  torrent,  and  to  roll  along 

On  the  swift  whirl  of  the  new  breaking  wave  « 

Of  river,  stream,  or  ocean  in  their  flow- 
In  these  my  early  strength  exulted  ;  or 
To  follow  through  the  night  the  moving  moon. 
The  stars,  and  their  development ;  or  catch 
The  dazzling  hghtnings  till  my  eyes  grew  dim ; 
Or  to  look  listening  on  the  scatter'd  leaves 
While  autumn  winds  were  at  their  evening  song. 
These  were  my  pastimes — and  to  be  alone. 
For  if  the  beings,  of  whom  I  was  one —       . 
Hating  to  be  so — cross'd  me  in  my  path. 
I  felt  myself  degraded  back  to  them. 
And  waa  all  clay  again." 


JOHN  CULT. 


the  passengers  except  Orestes  and  Pylades,  being  eager  to 
land,  went  on  shore  with  the  captain.  Byron  let  out  the  se- 
cret of  staying  behind  to  mo,  an  expected  salute  from  the 
batteries,  and  sent  nshoro  notice  to  Sir  Alexander  Ball,  the 
governor,  of  his  avotiir,  but  the  guns  evinced  no  respect 
of  persons,  so  that  the  two  magnates  wore  obliged  to  slip 
into  the  town  at  the  heel  of  the  evening,  unnoticed  and  un- 
known. To  Mr.  Chabot,  amongst  others,  I  had  letters,  and 
he  invited  me  to  dinner  along  with  other  friends  previously 
engaged. 

In  the  cool  of  the  evening  as  wo  were  sitting  at  our 
wine,  Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Hobhouse  were  announced.  His 
lordships'  appearance  as  lie  entered  the  room  showed  that 
they  had  met  with  some  adventure,  and  he  chuckled  with 
an  inward  sense  of  enjoyment,  as  his  companion  recounted, 
with  as  much  becoming  gravity  as  he  has  since  brought  for- 
ward the  army  estimates,  their  woes  and  sufferings,  as  an 
apology  for  begging  a  bed  and  a  morsel.  God  forgive  me,  but 
I  partook  of  Byron's  levity  at  the  idea  of  such  consequential 
personages  wandering  destitute  in  the  streets,  seeking  for 
lodgings  from  door  to  door,  and  rejected  by  all ! 

While  the  packet  went  forward  to  Messina,  I  remained  at 
Malta.  In  my  voyages  and  travels,  I  have  given  a  description 
of  what  appeared  to  me  the  most  interesting  things  in  the 
island,  but  it  would  seem  I  met  with  nothing  there  very 
particularly  attractive,  except  indeed,  the  hospitality  of  the 
gentlemen  to  whom  I  was  introduced.  I  have  never  been  in 
any  town  wheie  such  a  voluntary  spirit  of  kindness  exercised 
itself,  except  in  Quebec. 

But  although  it  is  rather  an  abrupt  deviation,  the  name  of 
Byron  will  procure  pardon  for  what  I  have  to  add  before  con- 
cluding this  chapter. 

It  will  be  recollected,  that  at  this  period,  it  is  not  quite 
ascertained  that  he  had  begun  the  composition  of  Childe  Har- 
old, and  therefore,  every  account  of  him  prior  to  that  event 
must  be  interesting.    Though  he  had  something  of  the  wild 


84 


THE  AUTOmOORAPHV   OF 


and  strange  of  genius  about  him,  he  did  not  loom  very  large 
to  my  imagination  ;  at  the  same  time,  it  appears  that  he  in- 
terested it,  for  I  endeavoured  to  give  a  character  of  him,  whick 
has  been  since  oflen  published ;  namely  : 

FPIGRAM. 

With  titif!,  wealth,  and  genius  blest, 
The  noble  Byron  knows  no  rest ; 
From  chme  to  clime,  he  flies  in  vain,  * 

Nor  finds  a  refuge  from  his  pain. 
Is  love,  rejected  love  the  cause, 
Perfidious  frieudship,  or  the  laws  ? 
Or  does  the  moon  controul  his  blood  1 
Ah  no,    What  then  ?  His  book's  reviewed. 


I     t 


JOHN  0.%LT. 


^T^l 


|v- 


CHAPTER  II. 

Statittical  account  of  Sicily.  Visits  to  Mr.  Fagan.  Study 
of  Antiquities,  Refused  pemiinhn  to  go  to  Ronu}.  An 
eclogue,   f^' 

At  Malta  1  staid  till  the  retarn  of  the  packet  from  Messinaj 
and  went  over  with  her  to  Girgenti  in  Sicily,  not,  how- 
ever, again  so  well.  Afterwards,  when  the  debilitating  hot 
weather  was  mitigated,  I  .nadetlie  tour  of  the  island,  and  in 
the  course  of  the  journey  collected  mrtteriak  for  a  statistical 
account.  The  account  of  the  productions  at  the  end  of  my 
voyages  and  travels  is  chiefly  composed  from  that  inquiry,  im- 
proved, however,  from  a  more  minute  survey,  procured  by  the 
late  Mr.  Holland,  a  partner  of  the  Barings,  who  at  a  consid- 
erable exjiense,  sent  a  person  to  make  the  same  investigation. 
Mr.  Holland  lent  me  the  manuscript,  but  the  result  was  neith- 
er satisfactory  to  him  nor  tq  me,  for  although  the  document 
was  ditiwn  up  with  great  care,  and  was  then,  if  not  now,  a 
very  curious  and  important  compilation,  and  such  as  exists  of 
few  countries,  it  has  never  been  once  noticed.  I  afterwards 
made  a  similar  collection  of  the  products  of  the  Morea,  but 
it  was  not  so  satisfiictory. 

A  remarkable  incident  concerning  the  former  paper  should 
be  mentioned.  Many  years  after,  my  freind  Mr.  Stevenson,  the 
brother-in-law  of  Mr.  Holland,  compiled  a  work  about  voy- 
ages and  travels,  I  forget  the  name  of  it,  but  I  expected  he 
would  have  noticed  the  Statistical  Account  of  Sicily,  not 
because  it  was  mine,  but  because  it  was  truly  valuable.  But 
he  said  nothmg  of  it :  not,  however,  being  a  man  of  practical 
ideas,  although  I  noticed  to  him  the  omission  it  did  not  sur- 
prise me,  for  I  had  long  before  observed  that  bookidi  men  are  not 
very  good  apprisers  of  facts;  they  have  no  adequate  con- 
ception of  the  cost  and  care  which  such  compilations  require. 

H 


ai 


'? 


Ifrnmnmim 


86 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPnY   OF 


; 


During  the  time  1  remained  in  Sicily  my  health  was  re- 
stored, and  with  it  my  love  of  enterprise. 

At  Palermo  I  went  often  to  Mr.  Fagan,  the  consul-general, 
and  sat  with  hun  while  he  painted,  for  he  was  by  profes- 
sion an  artist.— In  the  conversations  with  him  I  acquired  some 
of  those  maxims  as  fhey  may  be  called,  of  the  Roman  scaf- 
tiers,  or  antiquaries,  whiftfa  may  be  traced  in  my  works,  but  it 
was  more  of  the  rules  than  actual  knowledge;  that  is,  I  could 
judge  better  on  paper  respecting  the  principles  learnt  from 
him  than  by  examining  the  objects  themselves ;  for  although 
he  had  a  few  giblets  of  antiquity — to  feet  and  hands  of  an- 
cient statues— he  had  not  very  many.  I  remember  in  what 
manner  my  instruction  in  this  rare  and  curious  lore  happened 
to  commence.  ^ 

One  day  I  remarked  a  colossal  marble  foot  in  his  room.  It 
was  very  beautiful  and  very  large.  I  noticed  it,  saying  that 
ii  seemed  to  be  the  relic  of  some  gigantic  Venus.  "  Oh,  no," 
said  he,  "  it  is  the  foot  of  Juno.  I  found  it  among  the  ruins 
of  Agrigentum,  and  my  opinion  is,  that  it  belonged  to  the 
statue  that  was  anciently  famous  there." 

"  But  how  do  you  know,"  I  inquired,  "  that  it  is  the  foot 
of  Juno?" 

He  smiled  and  replied,  "  Because,*'  said  he,  "  the  ancients 
never  changed  tlie  characteristics  of  their  deities ;  those  of 
Juno,  for  example,  were  as  well  known  as  those  ot  tlie  Ma- 
donna are  to  the  modem  Romans,  and  they  carried  the  rule 
so  far  as  to  impress  the  peculiarities  on  every  part." 

He  then  explained  to  me,  by  shewing  the  signs  by  which 
he  knew  the  foot  belonged  to  Juno,  and  from  less  to  more  I 
was  induced  to  make  a  study  of  the  subject,  till  I  could  talk 
as  learnedly  about  gods  and  goddesses  as  an  Oxford  or  Cam- 
bridge professor,  who  may  know  their  names  in  Greek  or 
Latin ;  but,  as  I  have  confessed,  I  really  nevei  acquired 
much  practical  knowledge  on  the  subject  It  thus,  in  his  ve- 
ry simple  manner,  came  to  pass»  that  I  learnt  a  very  ab- 
struse and  recondite  kind  of  knowledge,  at  the  feet  of  a 
Gamaliel. 


JOHN  OALT. 


87 


Mr.  Fagan  advised  me  to  go  to  Rome,  and  gave  letters, 
with  which  I  went  afterwards  to  Messina,  and  solicited 
permission  of  the  British  commander  to  let  me  go  across  the 
straits  to  Reggio,  but  he  would  not  grant  leave.  This  was 
Sir  John  Stewart,  Count  Maida. 

In  my  journey  over  the  island,  the  naif  humour  of  the 
Sicilian  peasantry  exceedingly  amused  me,  and  an  adventure  at 
Cape  Bassero  gave  rise  to  the  following  eclogue,  which, 
though  it  has  little  poetical  merit,  I  have' ever  thought  a  true 
description  of  a  race  who  are,  if  not  humourous  themselves, 
the  cause  of  it  in  others : — 


?' 


THE  SPANISH  DOLLAR. 

Rehold  a  street  in  a  Sicilian  town, 

Which  aiiil  retains  some  name  nf  old  renown. 

Tiiat  red  letica  near  yon  portal  placed, 

Deiiotfis  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  guest ; 

But  lit !  tile  aetors,  peasants  they  nppr;ar, 

fliar  what  they  say,  and  reverence  what  you  hear. 

"■  The  solar  hlaze,  my  friend  Antonio,  quit, 
And  in  (he  shadow  of  thischapel  sit, 
Hi  ar  on  my  kuce^  lay  thy  unwashen  face. 
While  through  thy  tang'ed  locks  I  raise  the  chase  ; 
Thine  be  ilie  revtrit-s  of  the  diowsy  joy, 
A  i.'d  uiiiie  the  bliss  nf  seeking  to  destroy." 

''  Ail  Luilovico  !  other  thotighteexci'e 
My  eager  scratching  than  that  dear  delight. 
All  English  traveller  has  arrived  to-day. 
And  how  to  serve  him  all  my  wits  essay. 
Three  pricr  s  for  our  vile  Sicilian  trash 
Th«  Iiigleses  pay,  and  never  grudge  the  cash; 
And  this  mi  lord  hns  given  .oh  best  of  men !  * 

That  Spanish  dollar  for  my  leanest  hen. 
The  hen  my  wife,  with  salt  and  fndian  spice, 
In  water  stewp.  but  what  should  be  the  price 
With  deep  pi3rplexity  confounds  my  brain— 
Oh,  virgin  mother :  ease  my  doubt  and  pain; 
For  well  you  know,  if  I  too  much  reqnire. 
For  cooking,  dishes,  pepper,  salt,  and  fire, 
(The  thought  appals  my  very  heart  with  dread,) 
The  unruly  Englishman  will  break  my  head, 
And  if  but  what  he  fk-ee!y  pays,  the  loss 
Till  chance  repair  it,  every  joy  will  cross." 


f^ 


TUB  AVTOBfOQRAPlIY  OF 

*'Tbe  eaae,  Antonio,  iiiomewbat  new, 
But  let  ud  take  it  in  a  double  view. 
What !  salt  and  spice,  and  Are  and  wife  to  cook,— 
'Forhalf  a  dollar,  friend,  you  well  ia:iy  look." 
'  But  half  a  dollar,  Ludovico,  oh !" 

*'  Nay,  good  Antonio,  I  aaid  not  no ; 
Hear  but  my  counvel,  and  you  yet  may  own, 
Two  dollaismore,  and  still  pre.'^rve  your  crown. 
In  numerous  pans,  as  lawyers  charges  frame, 
Divide  the  costs,  and  still  before  hand  claim ; 
The  small  half  dollar  ne  er  will  breed  a  strife. 
For  pepper,  salt,  and  fire,  and  work  of  wife; 
Therefore:  re>erve  it  for  the  last  demand, 
And  humbl    ask  it  with  a  beggar's  hand." 

•'  Dear  Ludovico,  so  I  mean  to  do; 
But  how  shall  1  obtain  the  other  two?" 

*'  Aye,  there,  Antonio,  there  the  puzzle  lids, 
And  plain  it  is  that  ne'er  the  shining  prize 
You  by  your  own  unaided  wits  could  reach ; 
But  let  me  share  and  I  the  urt  will  teach. 
Give  me  the  dollar  in  your  hand  for  fee, 
And  I  will  teach  you  how  to  gain  still  three.*' 

"  Three,  Ludovico !  be  the  silver  thine. 
Oh  !  that  I  could  exchange  thy  brains  for  mine." 

*'  Well,  first,  you  know,  the  English  must  have  wine  ; 
To  purchase  that,  a  dollar  baldly  ask, 
And  fill  a  bottle  from  the  huxtet's  cask  ; 
Which,  new  and  weak,  no  Englishman  will  taste, 
Bo  in  the  cask  it  may  he  all  replaced. 
Meanwhile  your  wife,  with  Ekilfui  hand  may  make 
The  stew  such  as  no  Englishman  can  take ; 
And  other  fare  you  must  of  course  provide  ; 
For  eggs  and  bread  he  may  be  safely  tried 
A  full  half  dollar,  and  for  fruit  you  know. 
Another  ask  ; — why  there  you  see  are  two ; 
And  for  the  third  you  need  not  fear  to  try 
If  he  antiquities  or  toys  will  buy. 
A  worn  tarri  to  sell,  as  v/ondrous  rare  ; 
A  Funic  coin — nay,  but  the  thing  is  fair ; 
For  our  Sicilia  was  a  Punic  isle, 
And  rare  that  coin  is  the  reward  of  toil." 

"  Ah,  reprobates  !"  exclaimed  a  voice  behind, 
Agliast  they  turn,  and  see  with  ear  inclined, 
A  full  fed  monk  look  slily  from  within. 
All  he  had  heard,  and  thus  reproved  their  sin  : 
"  Ah,  reprobates !  to  me  thai  dollar  give, 
Such  knaves  as  you  are  hardly  fit  to  live. 


JOHN   OALT. 

How  now,  Antonio,  to  cbeat  so  willing, 
Your  fkmithed  hen  is  not  wortli  half  a  shilling. 
Go,  Ludovico,  sinner  as  thou  art, 
How  durst  tbon  counsels  such  as  these  impart  ? 
Go  instantly,  this  shocking  sin  to  mend. 
With  your  best  tales  the  Eii^glish  lord  attend ; 
For  true  it  is,  withouf  his  nation's  aid. 
Our  holy  church'would  drive  a  losing  trade." 
The  peasants  yield  and  slink  away ;  the  priest 
Seeks  the  refectory  and  savory  feast. 


89 


H  2 


90 


THE   AVTOBIOORAPHT  OF 


i 


CHAPTER  m. 

An  English  banquet  in  Palermo.  Character  of  the  Sicilians. 
Santa  Stephana.  .4n  hospitable  archbishop.  Remark  of 
his  Grace.  His  establishment.  A  prison  for  convicts. — 
Crossed  from  Sicily  to  Malta  in  an  open  boat. 

Some  things  were  omitted  in  my  travels  which  would  have 
added  to  the  interest  of  the  book ;  but  at  the  time  of  the  publi- 
cation I  entertained  great  deference  for  the  opinion  of  friends, 
to  whom  1  beheld  others  obsequious.  By  their  advice,  every 
incident  of  a  personal  nature,  which  did  not  relate  to  public 
characters,  was  suppressed.  But  in  this  work  I  am  not  so 
squeamish ;  both,  in  the  first  place,  because^l  am  myself  the 
hero  of  the  story ;  and  in  the  second,  conscious  of  the  offensive 
odour  of  egotism  which  must  pervade  it,  I  cannot  refrain  from 
raising  myself  towards  the  level  of  others  by  noticing  different 
incidents  which  interested  me,  and  have  an  importance  be- 
longing to  themselves. 

While  resident  in  Palermo,  I  was  invited  to  dine  in  the 
country,  and  was  given  to  understand  that  the  banquet  would 
be  served  entirely  in  the  English  manner.  It  was  a  grand 
occasion  ;  and  besides  two  princesses,  there  were  "  dukes  and 
sic  like  fules"  at  the  table.  The  day  was  very  warm,  and  the 
ladies  became  thirsty ;  the  punch  was  dcliciously  cool  and 
refiesliing ;  but  my  English  notions  were  not  entirely  prepared 
for  the  result,  and  I  saw  with  equal  astonishment  and  diver- 
sion, that  the  ladies  partook  of  the  iced  beverage  until  their 
eyes  were  bleezy  ;  but  I  do  not  mean  by  saying  this,  that  the 
excess,  to  which  the  heat  of  the  day  was  contributory,  was  at 
all  in  breach  of  decorum. 

During  the  time  I  was  in  Sicily,  I  had  not  much  opportuni- 
ty of  observing  the  manners  of  the  Sicilians ;  but  what  I  did 


JOHN  OALT. 


n 


see  impressed  me  with  a  lively  idea  of  the  simplicity  of  their 
hearts,  and  I  am  still  inclined  to  think  them  an  agreeable 
people. 

In  going  from  Palermo  to  Messina  the  waters  were  out,  and 
the  fumeras,  or  occasional  torrents,  often  raging  rivers,  in 
some  instances  so  vehement  as  to  be  unfordable ;  which  obliged 
us  to  rest  till  they  had  exhausted  their  fiiry,  just  as  one 
is  obliged  to  wait  with  a  woman  in  a  passion,  till  her  volubili- 
ty is  spent,  before  persuasion  can  be  applied  to  her  with  effect, 
either  in  the  shape  of  rhyme  or  reason.  In  this  state  was  the 
stream  at  Santo  Stephano,  and  which  obliged  us  in  the  even- 
ing  to  go  up  to  the  town,  that  bore  in  some  points  a  resem- 
blance to  the  most  orthodox  descriptions  of  Jerusalem,  namely 
in  being  situated  on  a  liill,  walled  round  with  walls,  and 
"  compactly  built  together." 

The  day  had  been  wet ;  but  the  sun  set  with  a  clear  fece, 
and  tlie  landscape  glistened  with  a  watery  sheen,  insomuch 
that  as  we  approached  the  gate,  we  beheld,  seated  on  the  out- 
side, a  number  of  elderly  persons  inhaling  the  country  air,  and 
among  them  sable  things,  that  on  nearer  inspection  proved  nei- 
ther crows  nor  cormorants,  but  the  archbishop  and  his  house- 
hold clergy.  Seeing  us  ride  up  the  hill,  his  grace  met  us  on 
the  brow,  and  in  a  very  Dr.  Parrish  manner  welcomed  us,  and 
told  us  we  must  expect  very  poor  accommodation  in  the  inn, 
or  locanda,  of  the  place.  However,  having  a  very  British  re- 
verence for  one  of  his  Grace's  rank,  and  having  done  my  hom- 
age, I  rode  forward  alone ;  when  my  companions  joined  me, 
they  mentioned  that  they  had  accepted  the  archbishop's  invita- 
tion, to  stay  for  the  night  at  the  palace,  one  of  them  having  a 
letter  for  his  grace.  It  is  but  doing  justice  to  his  hospitality, 
to  mention,  that  the  invitation  was  given  before  that  circum- 
stance was  recollected. 

Having  left  our  horses,  &,c.,  at  the  inn,  we  went  to  the  arch- 
iepiscopal  abode,  and  having  dressed  ourselves  for  the  evening 
joined  his  grace  in  a  well  furnished  ecclesiastical  looking 
drawing-room,  not  very  large.    Soon  after  an  early  supper 


9S 


THE  AVTOBIOOnAPHY  OF 


was  announced,  tbe  cooking  of  which  was  excellent,  and  did 
credit  to  the  rosy  glistening  countenance  of  our  host.  I  wonder 
how  a  bishop  with  us  would  entertain  a  set  of  hungry  Italians. 
The  incident,  however,  was  not  so  remarkable  on  this  ac- 
count, as  affording  a  specimen  of  that  idiomatic  difference  of 
manners  between  the  Sicilians  and  the  English  which  has  not 
been  sufficiently  described,  and  which  is  at  least  as  dissimilar 
as  their  national  features.  I  have  oflen  intended  to  write  a 
novel  illustrative  of  this  subject. 

The  only  thing  I  recollect  of  the  conversation  was  a  remark 
that  fell  from  the  archbishop.    In  speaking  of  the  difference 
between  the  churches  of  England  and  Rome,  he  said  it  was 
only  an  "  etiquette."    His  surname  had  a  very  Protestant  . 
sound  ;  it  was  Sergeant. 

The  "  gorgeous  eastern  harlot"  was  not  very  audacious  in 
his  house ;  not  more  than  four  or  five  footmen,  and  these  were 
occasional  assistants  at  an  olive  mill,  which  I  saw  in  one  of 
the  outhouses  in  going  poking  about  early  in  the  morning. 

Before  entering  upon  my  subsequent  adventures  after  leav- 
ing Sicily,  I  ought  to  mention  an  incident,  on  which  I  have 
not  yet  drawn  in  any  fiction,  but  which  I  may  hereafter  have 
occasion  to  do ;  for  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  not  in  characters 
only,  but  in  all  things,  that  an  author  should  have  natural 
.models  before  him. 

While  detained  at  Cape  Passero  by  contrary  winds,  in  going 
to  Malta,  I  visited  a  prison  for  convicts,  situated  on  a  small  ' 
island — 

"  a  tower  laved  by  Uie  salt  sea  waves, 
VVitliiri  whose  tiorizonno  sail  appear?, 
Save  the  black  ferry  boat,  in  cuininpr  calnif. 
Or  ship  wrecked  vessel  in*  winter's  morn, 
With  her  dead  crew  all  clinging  to  the  masts." 

It  was  alone  place;  the  island  was  rocky,  and  the  country  ; 
round  the  cape,  though  there  is  a  little  town  near  it,  bleak  and 
forbidding,  in  unison  with  the  profitless  purpose  of  the  prison, 
a  square  building,  with  ten  or  twelve  cannon  mounted  on  the 
battlements.    The  entrance  admits  only  one  person  at  a  time, 


jp»*— "■'■; 


JOHN  OALt. 


08 


and  the  inmates  are  doomed  to  perpetual  imprisonment.— 
When  1  was  there  they  did  not  appear  to  have  any  set  task 
and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  they  were  all  such  saracen* 
headed  fellows,  that  it  was  not  pleasant  to  look  at  them. 

On  enquiring  at  an  old  woman  who  was  spinning  from  a 
distafi  for  the  keeper,  she  shewed  mo  into  a  neat  apartment, 
and  presently  a  pretty  young  lady  came  from  an  inner  room 
and  informed  me  that  her  father  would  immediately  attend. 
In  a  moment  after  her  sister  entered.  Their  appearance  was 
unlike  the  scene  around.  They  were  dressed  in  dark  brown 
calico,  trimmed  with  narrow  green  ribband,  in  a  style  of 
gentility  almost  fashionable.  The  captain,  their  father,  soon 
after  entered. 

Telling  him  the  fact  of  my  detention  and  want  of  amuse- 
ment, he  immediately  look  me  into  an  inner  chamber.  In  a 
little  graied  window  two  flower  pots  were  placed,  and  the 
furniture  was  neatly  arranged  ;  but  this  unexpected  appearance 
of  comfort  was  soon  changed  to  a  far  other  feeling  than  that 
of  pleasure. — On  a  bed  lay  the  mother,  his  wife,  dying ;  and 
behind  her  a  little  boy,  who  had  taken  refuge  there  at  my  ap- 
proach. The  captain  said  she  had  been  a  delicate  woman, 
and  their  disconsolate  situation  had  brought  on  her  disease. 

He  then  conducted  me  to  the  roof  of  the  building,  and  but 
for  the  shock  received  below,  I  would  have  been  amused  With 
him ;  for  he  was  a  little,  gabby  man,  and  taking  me  by  the 
arm,  strutted  with  long  strides,  like  a  pair  of  compasses,  to 
and  fro  on  the  leads  of  the  building,  and  his  tongue  never  lay. 

I  have  since  seen  the  state  prison  at  Auburn,  New  York, 
and  our  Penitentiary  at  Millbank,  but  the  Sicilian  is  the 
worst  possible,  notwithstanding  that  the  government  might 
be  supposed  to  be  more  enlightened  on  prison  discipline  than 
either  the  American  or  the  British.  Indeed,  I  have  something 
like  pride  in  stating  my  persuasion,  that  the  Penitentiary  of 
Millbank  is  on  the  most  philosophical  principle  of  the  three. 
I  was  astonished,  indeed,  to  observe  in  the  land  of  Franklin, 
tiiat  criminals,  for  reformation,  were  allowed  to  work  in  sight 


94 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


of  each  other ;  silence,  though,  they  were  obliged  to  main- 
tain. But  this  is  a  digression;  only  I  may  here  mention  a  cu- 
rious fact  which  has  not  been  noticed,  namely,  that  women  do 
not  at  all  bear  solitary  confinement  so  well  as  men,  and  that  the 
sexual  difference  requires  a  different  treatment;  they  "peak 
and  pine"  when  confined  alone. 

It  was  about  Christmas  that  I  left  Sicily  for  Malta,  in  an 
open  boat  The  distance  is  greater  than  the  width  of  the 
channel  between  England  and  Ireland;  but  it  never  once 
occurred  to  me  that  to  attempt  such  a  passage  in  the  depth 
of  winter  was  an  enterprise,  until  luckily  I  was  safe  on  the 
marina  of  Valctta. 


JOHN   OALT. 


95 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Take  pasmge  for  Spezzia.  A  storm.  Anchor  at  Valonn. 
Albanians.  A  puppy  Turk.  TJte  Secretary's  salary^ 
An  adventure. 

On  my  arrival  at  Malta  I  took  my  passage  in  a  vessel  to  the 
island  of  Spezzia  with  the  intention  of  passing  over  to  Crete. 
She  was  a  very  fine  polacca,  and  besides  arms  and  thirty-six 
men,  had  a  madonna  in  the  cabin  with  alamp  constantly  burn- 
ing before  her,  so  that  we  were  very  efficiently  protected.  But 
soon  after  we  left  the  island,  a  storm  arose  in  which  I  received 
no  consolation  in  reflecting  that  Ulysses  and  yEneas  had  en- 
countered similar  tempests  in  the  same  sea,  and  that  even  St. 
Paul  had  fared  no  better.  The  violence  of  the  wind  increased 
to  such  a  degree,  that  we  were  obliged  to  run  up  the  Adriatic, 
and  to  anchor  in  the  harbour  of  Valona  opposite  on  the  Greek 
side  to  Cape  Otranto,  the  castle  of  which  is  the  scene  of 
Horace  Walpole's  Mother  Bimche's  fairy  tale. 

The  town  of  Valona  is  a  wretched  place,  but  I  was  interested 
in  the  appearance  of  a  number  of  Albanian  soldiers  whom  I 
saw  for  the  first  time. 

Their  dress  seemed  handsome  and  becoming  consisting  of  a 
loose  cloak  made  of  brown  shaggy  woollen  cloth,  and  an  em- 
broidered waistcoat :  they  wear  their  shirts  on  the  outside 
of  their  drawers,  somewhat  in  the  style  of  a  Highland  philli- 
beg.  Few  wear  turbans,  but  cover  the  top  of  the  head  with 
a  little  red  cap,  decorated  with  a  tassel,  which  reminded  me 
of  the  nipple  of  a  Highlander's  bonnet;  they  had  all  sashes 
and  a  leathern  belt,  in  which  were  stuck  two  large  pistols 
and  a  sword.  The  belts  were  fastened  with  silver  clasps 
broader  than  a  dollar,  and  many  wore  ornaments  resembling 


THE    AUTOBIUORAPIIY    OF 


I     '^ 


cymbals,  at  their  knees  and  ancles.  One  of  them  had  on  his 
vest  a  double  row  of  nondescripts,  which  must  be  called  but- 
tons ;  they  were,  however,  as  large  as  lomuns,  of  the  same 
shape,  and  made  of  silver  wire  neatly  interwoven.. 

In  this  remote  place  I  acquired  by  accident  some  informa- 
tion which  I  have  ever  deemed  at  least  curious.  Having  land- 
ed to  see  the  town  of  Valona,  a  puppy  Turk  not  more  than 
sixteen,  who  had  apparently  just  assumed  the  manly  pistol, 
followed  me  and  began  to  talk  very  pompously.  To  get  rid 
of  his  impertinence  I  quickened  my  pace,  but  he  only  became 
more  obstreperous  and  presented  his  pistol  at  my  head. — It 
seems  that  two  women  under  the  protection  of  this  youth  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  street,  and  ho  thought  I  was  hurrying  tow- 
ards them.  Next  morning  the  secretary  of  the  Pasha  came 
on  board  and  inquired  about  this  adventure,  for  the  rumour  o^ 
the  affair  had  reoched  the  ears  of  his  Highness  with  all  due 
exaggeration ;  however,  I  made  light  of  it  as  it  was  over,  and 
nothing  further  took  place. 

The  secretary  in  the  course  of  conversation  mentioned  that 
his  name  was  Nicolo  Papalazarus,  and  informed  me  that  it  was 
a  general  custom  in  that  part  of  Greece  for  children  to  add  to 
their  baptismal  name,  a  surname  formed  by  combining  the  pro- 
fession with  the  Christian  name  of  their  father.  The  name 
of  his  father  was  Lazarus,  who  being  a  priest,  Nicolo  was  call- 
ed Papalazarus,  the  son  ot  Lazarus  the  priest.  A  matter  of 
this  kind  is  not  important,  but  the  custom  seemed  more  ra- 
tional than  the  method  of  individualizing  which  prevails 
among  us. 

He  also  mentioned  that  he  received  no  pay  for  his  service, 
but  had  a  small  district  allowed  to  him  out  of  the  rental  of 
which  he  paid  the  Pasha  a  certain  sum,  the  remainder  was 
his  own.  This  mode  of  reimbursing  service  he  told  me  was 
the  ordinary  practice  under  the  Ottoman  government;  fiefe 
there  had  not  yet  become  hereditary.  The  practice  according 
to  my  conception  probably  existed  before  the  introduction  of 
the  feudal  system  into  the  West  ot  Europe,  for  according  to 
what  he  said,  military  service  was  not  required.    It  is  to  this 


JOHN    04LT. 


State  of  thin^that  the  radicals  are  drivings,  and  every  oppor- 
tunity should  be  taken  to  inculcate  the  great  truth  that  with- 
out permanency  being  secuful  .  o  property  and  the  power  to 
increase  it  cuut'^nod  to  individuals,  there  is  no  likelihood  of 
rendering   human  atfflirs  progressive. 

Remote  and  scquesterf  "1  aa  the  situation  of  Valona  is,  it  ap- 
pears to  have  been  a  spot  destined  to  afford  me  curious  infor- 
mation. In  the  afternoon  the  wind  being  calm,  I  went  to  a 
pastoral  village  on  the  shore,  and  leaving  the  boat  walked 
unaccompanied  towards  the  hills.  I  had  not  advanced,  how- 
ever, above  half  a  mile,  when  an  old  Turk,  who  appeared  to 
be  the  precursor  of  a  band  of  fifty  or  sixty  in  number,  ad- 
dressed me.  My  first  sensation  was  not  pleasant,  but  in  go- 
ing towards  him  I  saw  there  was  no  occasion  to  be  under 
:iny  apprehension :  he  could  speak  the  lingua  Franca, 
which  renders  Italian  so  useful  in  every  part  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  his  purpose  was  to  caution  me  from  going  alone, 
as  the  people  of  the  country  were  bad  and  lawless.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  minutes  the  band  surrounded  us,  and  a  yonng 
man  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader  inquired  how  I  came 
there  alone.  I  pointed  to  the  boat  and  vessel,  and  he  civilly 
went  away,  but  an  old  man  whom  I  had  observed  eying 
ine  very  [particularly,  the  moment  that  his  oflicer  had  passed 
on,  pulled  a  purse  from  his  bosom,  and  pointing  to  the  silk 
handkerchief  round  my  neck,oftered  to  buy  it.  Not,  however, 
being  prepared  to  deal  with  him,  but  having  another  in  my 
pocket,  I  presented  it,  and  he  took  his  leave  highly  contented; 
while  this  was  transacting,  a  wag  stole  behind  me,  and  ga? e 
a  wild  disorderly  bellow  like  a  turkey  cock,  no  doubt  to 
frighten  me  ;  he  then  made  a  great  many  ludicrous  bows  and 
grimaces  as  if  in  mockery  of  our  modes  of  asking  pardon  for 
unintentional  offences :  an  effort  of  humour  much  relished  by 
his  companions. 

This  trivial  incident  has  ever  since  had  an  important  influ- 
ence on  me,  and  if  it  did  not  inspire  me  with  a  resolution  to 
treat  mankind  with  confidence  ever  afler,  it  made  me  sensible 


09 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


I 


I 


that  it  was  at  least  the  eafest  way  to  do  so.  Children,  dogs, 
and  savage  men  are  all  physiognomists,  and  flattered  by  be- 
ing trusted.  From  that  day  1  never  had  occasion  to  call  in 
question  the  propriety  of  acting  with  sincerity  and  frankness 
towards  the  greatest  and  the  wildest  strangers — or  if  there 
ever  was  need  to  be  on  my  guard,  it  was  not  with  those  who 
obeyed  their  impulses  more  than  their  reason.  I  am,  how- 
ever, almost  persuaded  in  this  as  in  many  things,  that  the 
quality  of  this  confidence  is  of  a  constitutional  nature,  and 
cannot  be  adopted  by  any  volition,  for  I  have  remarked  the 
same  conduct  in  two  of  my  children.  They  had  not  been  in 
the  forests  of  Canada  many  hours  when  they  went  fearless- 
ly sporting  with  two  Indians  with  whom  they  could  not  ex- 
change words,  and  remained  in  the  wild  wood  unseen,  and, 
let  me  add,  without  exciting  any  alarm.  The  eldest  boy 
was  not  above  twelve  years  of  age.  The  only  wonder  was 
how  they  made  themselves  intelligible  to  the  Indians.  Had 
they  been  accustomed  to  tlie  country  the  surprise  had  been 
less,  but  they  were  fresh  from  an  English  school  and  none  in- 
ured to  the  taciturnity  and  habits  of  the  Indians. 

From  Valona  we  sailed,  when  a  liglit  breeze  sprang  up,  for 
the  island  of  Zante,  where  I  landed,  tired  of  being  cooped 
up  so  long  OH  board  the  St  Nicola,  good  ship  though  she  was ; 
and  having  a  long  walk  to  the  city,  I  only  took  with  me  a 
small  portmanteau  which  my  servant  could  carry,  sending 
our  other  luggage  on  with  the  vessel  to  Spezzia,  being  as- 
sured I  could  easily  get  it  brought  to  Athens. 

The  weather  was  delightful,  and  the  view  of  Zante  from 
the  summit  of  a  small  island  on  which  I  first  landed  was 
beautiful  and  inviting  The  islet  itself  was  rendered  inter- 
ting  by  the  romantic  circumstance  of  being  inhabited  by  two 
old  hermits.  One  of  them  was  sitting  on  the  rocks  in  the 
apostolical  ccupation  of  fishing,  the  other  was  walking  on  th6 
sandy  shore,  as  I  have  elsewhere  described  them ;  of  their 
habitation  I  shall  not  repeat  the  description  here.  I  only  men- 
tion it  to  shew  that  I  have  not  drawn  entirely  from  the  im- 
agination in  my  various  pictures  of  anchorites. 


JOHN  OALT. 


99 


From  the  small  island  1  went  over  to  Zante  and  proceeded 
to  the  town  where  I  staid  several  days,  and  of  which  I  have 
given  what  was  then  an  interesting  account  in  my  Letters 
from  the  Levant ;  with  a  very  warm  remembrance  of  the 
hospitality  of  General  Oswald  and  of  Prince  Camuta  who  must 
be  now  long  dead. 

From  Zante  I  crossed  into  Greece  and  arrived  at  Patras  at 
midday,  when  I  dined  with  the  imperial  consul,  respecting 
whom  1  have  no  other  recollection  than  that  he  was  a  kind 
and  civil  old  gentleman,  with  the  massiest  silver  table  spoons 
of  an  ancient  pattern  I  had  ever  seen :  they  were  worthy  of 
gracing  the  board  of  him  of  whom  Butler  speaks — 

"  A  German  prince  he  grew  so  fat,  "    * 

TImt  mice,  as  tiistories  relate, 

Ate  grotfl  and  labyrinths  to  dwell  in, 

His  posiique  parts  without  him  feeling.' 


100 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   Of 


I 


CHAPTER  V. 


■r>  ■.. 


Leave  Patras  for  Corinth.  As/iect  of  the  landscape  re- 
sembles  the  Firth  of  Clyde  seen  from  Bishopton  Hill. 
From  Corinth  to  Tripolizza.  Scheme  of  counteracting 
the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees  first  conceived  there. — 
Meet  a  descendant  the  of  Paleologi.  The  history  and  eX' 
Unction  of  the  family  in  England    Proceed  to  Athens, 

After  dinner  1  left  Patras  in  a  boat  hired  to  take  me  up 
the  gulf  of  Corinth,  a  distance,  if  I  recollect  rightly,  of  nearly 
one  hundred  miles.  Although  many  things  reminded  me 
that  I  was  really  in  a  foreign  country,  yet  there  was  a  famil- 
iarity in  the  aspect  of  the  landscape,  particularly  from  the 
shore  at  Corinth,  as  if  I  had  seen  it  "  in  another  and  a  better 
world."  The  mountains  were  more  stupendous,  it  is  true,  par- 
ticularly Parnassus,  than  any-,  except  Etna,  I  could  have  ever 
seen,  and  the  purity  of  the  atmosphere  made  every  object  un- 
commonly distinct.  It  reminded  me,  though  on  a  much  larger 
scale,  of  the  view  of  the  Firth  of  Clyde  from  Bishopton  Hill ; 
at  the  time,  however,  it  was  not  so  recollected,  but  when  I 
afterwards  returned,  the  similarity  greatly  struck  me  on  see- 
ing again  that  view. 

From  Corinth  I  went  to  Argos ;  the  country  was  lone  and 
desolate  till  I  came  within  a  short  distance  of  the  ruins  of 
Mycenee,  when  one  of  the  most  gorgeous  spectacles  presented 
itself  whicli  the  setting  sun  has  ever  exhibited.  Not  a  breath 
of  wind  was  stirring ;  the  mountains  around  seemed  to  be  in 
expectation ;  and  clouds  that  resembled  vast  masses  of  solid 
fire  kindled  over  the  sun  and  produced  an  effect  which  in- 
spired more  of  awe  than  tranquillity.  Before  mo  lay  the 
gulf  of  Argos,  on  the  western  side  of  which,  bold  promonto- 
ries, like  the  side  scenes  of  a  theatre,  extended  in  successive 


I: 


JOBM  OALT. 


101 


perspective  to  a  great  distance ;  and  on  the  eastern  lay  the 
city  of  Napoli  Romania,  with  abrupt  cliSk  near  it  glittering 
in  glorious  magnificence,  but  the  sublime  aspect  of  the  heav- 
ens and  the  consideration  of  being  in  a  country  where  the  mor- 
al change  was  still  greater  than  the  desolation  I  had  all  day 
witnessed,  gave  a  degree  of  solemnity  to  my  reflections  rare- 
ly experienced ;  for  at  that  time  no  symptom  of  revivifica- 
tion, after  a  long  winter,  had  yet  manifested  itself  on  the  Gre- 
cian character,  and  I  entered  Argos  with  a  degree  of  emo- 
tion which  cannot  be  described. 

As  1  have  said  something  of  the  journey  to  Tripolizza  in  my 
"  Letters  from  the  Levant,"  it  is  not  requisite  here  to  re- 
peat my  interview  with  the  pasha,  especially  aa  in  tlie  Life 
of  Byron  I  took  occasion  to  describe  it* 

*  The  account  of  llie  interview  liere  referred  to,  will  be  new  to  many  ef 
our   readers,  and  we   accordingly  transfer  it  to  our  pages. — Eoitok, 

"  Tlie  ceremonies  on  sucii  visits  are  similar  all  over  Turlcey,  anjimg 
personages  of  the  same  rank  ;  and  as  Lord  Byron  has  not  described  in  vennj 
the  details  of  what  took  place  with  him,  it  will  not  be  altogether  obtrntiv« 
heie  to  recapitulate  what  happened  to  myself  during  a  visit  to  Villii  Pa^haw, 
the  son  of  Ali;  lie  was  then  Vizier  of  the  Morea,  and  re^-iding  at  Tripolizza. 
"  In  the  afternoon,  about  four  o'clock,  1  set  out  for  the  seraglio  with  Dr. 
TeriaBo,  tiie  vizier's  physician,  and  the  vizier's  Italian  secretary.  'J'hp  cale 
nf  the  palace  was  not  unlike  the  entrance  to  some  of  the  closets  in  Etliiiburjsh, 
and  the  court  within  reminded  me  of  Smithfield  in  London ;  but  it  was  not  «ur- 
ronaded  by  such  lofty  buildinsrs,  nor  in  any  degree  oF  comparisim  so  well  con- 
stnicted.  We  ascended  a  ruinous  staircase,  which  led  to  an  open  gallery, 
where  three  or  four  hundred  of  the  vizier's  Albanian  guards  were  loungiirjt. 
In  an  anti-chamber,  which  opened  from  the  gallery,  a  mimber  of  officers  w.ie 
mnokiiig,  and  in  the  middle,  ou  the  floor  two  old  Turks  were  seriously  engnt;>;d 
at  chess 

'•  My  name  being  sent  in  to  the  vizier,  a  guard  of  ceremony  was  called,  iu\il 
afLcr  tliey  had  arranged  tiiemselves  in  ihe  presence-chamber,  I  was  adimud 
iJlife  doctor  and  the  secretary  having  in  thn  mean  time,  taken  ofl' their  sin >t'j?, 
accompanied  me  in,to  act  as  interpreters.  "  The  presence  chamber  was  atioui 
forty  teel  square,  shi»wy  and  handsome  ;  round  the  walls  were  pinned  sofa.<, 
which,  from  being  covered  with  scarlet,  reminded  me  of  the  wool  sacks  in  lli« 
House  of  Lords.  In  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room,  elevated  jon  a  crimson 
velvet  cushion,  sat  the  vizier,  wrapped  in  a  superb  pelisse :  on  his  head  wa.s  a 
vnM  turban, in  his  belt  a  dagger,  incrusted  with  jewels,  and  on  the  little  finder 
of  his  right  hand  he  wore  a  solitaire  as  large  as  the  knob  on  the  stoppsr  of  a 
vinegar  cruet,  and  wliich  was  said  to  have  cost  two  thousand  five  hundred 
[xmiids  sterling.  In  his  lefl  hand  he  held  a  string  of  sinall  coral  beads,  a  com- 
bololo'which  he  twisted  backwards  and  forwards  during  the  greater  part  of 
his  visit.  On  the  sofa  beside  him  lay  apair  of  richly  ornameaied  London 
made  pistols.  At  some  distance,  on  the  same  sofa,  but  not  on  a  cushion,  sat 
Hemet,  tliePashaw  of  Napoli  Romania,whose  son  was  contracted  in  marriage 
u>  tJia  vizier's  daughter.  On  the  floor,  at  the  foot  of  this  pashaw,  and  opposite 
to  the  vizier,  a  secretary  was  writing  despatches.  These  were  the  only  persotis 
in  the  room  who  had  tlie  honour  of  being  seated  :  for  according  to  the  eti- 
quetti)  of  this  viceregal  court,  those  wlio  received  the  vizicr'd  pay  were  not 
allowed  to  sit  down  in  hU  presence. 

*  1-2 


102 


TUB  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP 


It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  I  arrived  at  Tripolizza,  and 
the  occurrence  was  to  myself  greatly  influential,  for  it  was 
there  that  the  idea  first  occurred  to  me  to  form,  somewhere 
in  the  Levant,  an  establishment  to  counteract  the  celebrated 
Berlin  and  Milan  decrees.  The  germ  of  this  notion  rose  to  me 
in  reading  an  Italian  newspaper,  from  Corfu,  that  I  found  in 
the  house  of  Dr.  Teriano,  the  vizier's  physician. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  scheme  was  practicable,  and  that 
tlie  misrule  and  disorder  of  Turkey  afforded  the  means  of 
carrying  it  into  effect.  The  conception  was  instantaneous,  but 


On  my  entrance,  hig  Tlijrhnpss  motioned  fo  nio  tn  sit  l)esi(le  liim,  and  tlirougli 
Ihemrdinniof  till'  interpreters  befian  with  some  coninionpiace  cDurlly  insignifi* 
cancies,as  a  prelude  to  more  interesstini;  eonversaiion.  In  Ills  maimers  I  found 
liiui  free  and  atlahle,  with  ac(>nt:ideral>lc  tincture  of  Immour  and  drellery. — 
Among  otlierqiieslions,  lie  inijuired  if  1  had  a  wife  ;  and  bciiij!  answered  in  the 
iKii^ative,  he  replied  to  mn  himself  in  Italian,  that  I  was  a  hapi)y  man,  for  he 
fonnd  his  very  trouhlesome ;  considerinir  their  probable  nnmber,  this  was  not 
unlikely  l'ii)i's  and  coilie  were  in  the  mean  time  served.  Tin;  pipe  presented 
to  the  vizier  was  at  least  twelve  feet  lonj;  ;  the  niduth  piece  was  formed  of  a 
6in!;!e  block  of  anibec,  about  the  size  of  ari  ordinary  cncundjer,  and  fastened  to 
tlieshalt  by  a  broad  lioop  of  gold,  decoraterl  wiili  jewels,  WJiile  the  pipes 
and  Cdffi'e  were  distiibutinc,  a  musical  clock,  which  stood  in  a  niche,  began 
to  piny, and  contiiuied  doing  so  until  this  ceremony  was  over.  The  cotlc-e  was 
literally  a  drop  of  dregs  in  a  veiy  small  china  cup,  placed  in  a  goldifn  socket. 
His  Highness  was  served  with  hiscoftle  by  Pashaw  lJey,Iiis  generalissimo,  a 
giant,  with  the  tall  crown  of  a  dun  coloured  beaver  liat  on  his  head.  In  ro- 
turninii  the  cup  to  liim,  the  vizier  elegantly  eructated  in  his  face.  After  the 
regale  of  the  jjipes  and  coffee,  tiie  attendants  withdrew,  and  his  Highness  be- 
gan a  kind  of  political  discussion,  in  wiiich,  though  making  use  of  an  inter- 
preter, he  inaiidged  to  convey  his  questions  with  delicacy  and  address. 

"On  my   risinu  to  retire,  his  Highness  informed  me,  with  more  polite  con- 
descension than  a  Christian  of  a  thousandth  part  of  his  authority  would  have 
done,  that  during  my  stay  at  Tripolizza  horses   were  at  my  command,  and 
guards  who  would  accompany  nie  to  any  part  of  the  country  I  might  cliodso 
to  visit. 

'' Next  morning  he  sent  a  complimentary  message,  importing,  that  he  had 
ordered  dinner  to  be  prepared  at  the  doctor's  for  me  and  two  of  his  officers  — 
The  two  officers  vvere  lively  fellows  ;  one  of  them  in  particular  seemed  to  have 
acquired,  by  instinct,  a  larce  share  of  the  ease  and  politeness  of  Christf^ndom. 
The  dinner  surpasse<i  all  count  and  reckoning,  dish  followed  dish,  till  I  began 
to  fancy  tlini  the  cook  either  expected  I  would  honour  his  Hiuhness's  enter- 
tainment as  ("jEsar  did  the  supper  of  Cicero,  or  supposed  that  the  party  were 
not  finite  beings.  Dining  thi' course  of  this  amazing  servi.;e,  the  principal 
Pincers  and  mu!^ici^ns  of  the  seraglio  ariived,and  siing  and  played  several 
pieces  of  very  sweet  'J'urkish  music.  Among  others  was  a  song  composed  by 
the  late  u'ifortnnate  sultan  S«lini,  the  air  of  which  was  pleasint'ly  simple  and 
pathetic.  1  had  heard  of  the  sultan's  poetry  before,  a  small  collection  of 
which  has  been  printed. — It  is  said  to  he  interesting  and  tender,  consisfinj; 
chiefly  of  little  sonnets,  written  af^er  he  was  deposed;  in  which  he  contrnsta 
tJie  tranquillity  of  hisretiiement  w itii  the  perils  and  anxieties  of  his  former 
grandeur.  After  the  songs,  the  servants  of  the  oflicers,  who  vvere  Albanians, 
danced  a  iMacedonian  reel,  in  which  they  exhibited  several  furious  specimens 
of  Highland  asiiity.  The  officers  then  took  their  leave,  and  I  went  to  bed 
equally  gratified  by  the  hospitality  of  the  vizier  and  the  incidents  uf  the  en- 
tertainment 


JOHN   GALT. 


103 


its  feasibility  became  more  distinct,  and  at  last  grew  the  tio- 
tive  and  purpose  of  my  travels  in  Turkey,  increasing  in 
strength  by  inquiry  and  knowledge  a;3  fire  is  augmented  by 
stirring  and  fresh  fuel.  I  resolved  however  to  say  nothing 
till  the  idea  was  matured  by  actual  observation,  for  the  scheme 
was  so  great  as  to  seem  wild,  and  so  improbable  in  execution 
as  to  require  the  evidence  of  facts.  But  I  again  fell  into  in- 
disposition by  which  my  movements  were  impeded,  and  I  was 
in  consequence  obliged  to  be  more  as  a  mere  traveller  than 
was  consistent  with  the  energy  and  scope  of  undertaking  so 
great  an  enterprise.  The  plan,  however,  gradually  filled 
my  mind  till  it  occupied  it  exclusively,  and  I  built  castles  in 
the  air  of  the  most  gorgeous  description,  with  a  fame  on  the 
pediment  blazoning  with  her  trumpet.        -  ., 

I  stayed  two  doys  at  Tripolizza,  and  among  otlier  great  men 
to  whom  I  was  indebted  for  attention,  was  an  extremely  res- 
pectable-looking old  gentleman,  the  primate  of  the  Morea; 
he  claiinoil  to  be  descended  from  the  Paleologi,  and  very  prob- 
ably wa?,  at  least  his  rank  in  the  government  lent  colouring 
to  his  claim.  It  has  since  occurred  to  me  as  somethinsr  extra- 
ordinary,  that  in  the  resuscitation  of  Greece  no  attempt  has 
been  made  to  recall  the  ancient  imperial  line ;  but  *  re  is 
a  secret  in  all  things,  the  head-quarters  of  the  Hoetoria  are  in 
Munich,  and  I  am  sure  I  do  no  injustice  in  ascribing  to  their 
machinations  the  appointment  of  the  boy  Otho  to  be  king  of 
the  Greeks.  The  present  king  of  Bavaria,  when  prince  royal, 
was  himself  a  member  of  the  Hcetoria.* 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  the  last  of  the  line  of  the 
Paleologi  died  in  England.  I  sketched  a  tale  once  on  this 
subject  by  supposing  one  of  them  to  have  been  the  execution- 
er, in  mask,  of  Charles  the  First,  whom  I  represented  as  hav- 
ing'inspired  him  with  vindictive  feelings  by  insolently  treating 
the  fallen  fortunes  of  his  house.    The  manuscript  of  the  tale 

*  A  brotherhood  or  Society  of  Frirnd?,  the  momhprs  of  which  in  different 
parts  of  Europe,  at  first  simply  confined  th«Mr  intentions  and, labours  to  edu- 
catint;  the  infirm  Greek  clergy  and  the  jieople  of  Greece,  by  means  of  schoo^9 
and  ditTnsing  useful  booltp,— afterwards,  i!ie  Iloetoria  became  tiie  centre  and 
sou!  o{  that  conspiracy  which  brnni»luon  the  Greek  revolution,  and  the  sever- 
ance of  Greece  from  Turliey.— Editor. 


104 


THS  AtrrOBIOOBAPHT  OF 


is  preserved,  and  is  derived  from  the  following  circumstances. 
Constantine  Paleologus,  the  last  of  tlie  Greek  emperors, 
had  a  brother  called  Tomasio,  a  soldier  of  such  spirit  and  bra- 
very that  Mahomet  II.,  in  speaking  of  the  Peloponnesus,  said 
he  had  found  many  slaves  in  that  country,  but  only  one  man, 
Tomasio.  After  defending  the  fortress  of  Salonica  with  un- 
daunted constancy  against  the  conqueror,  when  all  hope  of  re- 
lief was  abandoned,  this  prince  fled  into  Italy,  where  Pope  Pi- 
us IL  allowed  him  a  pension  till  his  death. 

He  had  an  only  son  called  John,  who  accompanied  his 
father  into  Italy,  and  afterwards  married  a  noble  lady  of  Pisa, 
where,  aflerthe  death  of  Tomasio,  they  assumed  some  of  the 
forms  and  etiquettes  of  the  ancient  imperial  court.  The  off- 
spring of  this  marriage  was  also  a  son  named  Theodoro,  whp 
in  due  course  of  years  also  married  and  became  the  father  of 
Prospero,  the  father  of  Camilio.  In  the  time  of  Pope  Paul  V., 
Camilio  rendered  himself  so  obnoxious  to  the  papal  court,  by 
adhering  to  the  Greek  church,  that  he  was  forceed  to  fly  with 
his  son,  and  what  became  of  them  was  never  ascertained.  It 
was  believed  that  they  both  perished  at  sea,  and  with  them 
the  imperial  line  was  extinguished.  But  at  Lindulph,  in 
Cornwall,  some  light  is  thrown  on  this  interesting  historical 
fact  In  the  church  is  a  mural  monument,  ornamented  witli 
an  escutcheon  of  brass,  on  which  were  engraved  two  turrets, 
with  the  figure  of  an  eagle  with  two  heads,  resting  a  claw  on 
each  turret,  the  singularity  of  this  armorial  bearing  to  persons 
acquainted  with  heraldry  is  very  attractive,  and  the  inscrip- 
tion is  still  more  remarkable ;  as  follows. 


u 


Here  lyeth  the  body  of  Theodoro  Paleologus,  of  Pisanio, 
in  Italye,  descended  from  the  Imperyall  lyne  of  the  last 
Christian  Emperours  of  Greece,  being  the  sonne  of  Camilio, 
the  Sonne  of  Prospero,  the  sonne  of  Theodoro,  the  sonne  of 
John,  the  sonne  of  Thomas,  the  second  brother  to  Constan- 
tine Paleologus,  the  eighth  of  that  name,  and  last  of  the  lyne 
that  raygned  in  Constantinople,  until  subdued  by  the  Turks, 
who  married  with  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Willia  ^  Jialls,  of 
Hadlye,  in  Souflbulke,  gent,  and  had  issue  five  children : — 


JOHN  OALT. 


105 


Theodore,  John,  Ferdinando,  Maria,  and  Dorothy,  and  departed 
this  life  at  Clyfton,  the  21st  of  January,  1636." 

In  pursuing  the  hint  here  suggested,  I  have  ascertained  that 
of  the  children,  Dorothy  was  married  at  Lindulph,  to  William 
Arnmdle  in  1656,  and  died  in  1681 ;  Maria  was  unmarried 
and  buried  there  in  1674;  but  of  the  sons  Ferdinand  and 
John,  no  record  is  preserved.  The  name  of  Theodore  would 
also  have  perished,  but  it  appears  by  the  parish  register 'of 
Iladleigh,  in  Suffolk,  that  his  father's  marriage  took  place 
there  on  the  27th  of  May,  1617,  and  tliere  is  some  reason  to 
believe  that  he  was  the  first  progeny  of  the  union. 

On  this  curious  occurrence,  I  laid  the  foundation  of  my  sto- 
ry, which  induces  me,  as  tombstones  and  parish  registers  are 
held  to  be  good  evidence,  to  reject  the  claim  of  the  primate 
ot  the  Morea;  it  was  not,  however,  polite  to  dispute  it.  But 
it  is  time  to  return  from  this  digression  to  my  own  story. 

Having  received  from  the  Vizier  Villii  Pasha  a  particular 
introduction  to  the  waywode  of  Athens,  I  left  Tripolizza  and 
went  to  that  city,  as  recorded  in  my  Letters  from  the  Levant, 


•;  ■;r 


a.-  "■, 


i 


I 


H 


106 


TUB  AUTOBIOORAPHT  OF 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Athens.  Reside  at  a  monastery.  Meet  again  Lord  Byron 
and  Mr.  Hobhouse.  Unprofitable  industry.  Coincidence. 
Ode^  suggested  by  the  state  of  Greece. 

I  TOOK  up  my  residence  at  Athens  in  the  monastery  of  the 
Propaganda  Fide  of  Rome,  in  which  there  was  only  one  friar, 
a  most  respectable  person,  and  a  friend  of  Emanuel,  the  abdi- 
cated king  of  Sardinia.  My  health  as  I  have  already  men- 
tioned, was  very  variable ;  I  was  again  unwell,  and  every 
thing  was  at  odds  and  ends  with  me.  The  weather  for  savo- 
ral  days  obliged  me  to  keep  the  house ;  but  it  happened  at 
this  time  that  Lord  Byron  and  his  friend  were  in  Athens,  and 
I  was  induced,  by  Mr.  Hobhouse  calling  on  me,  to  renew  my 
acquaintance  with  his  lordship.  But  for  this  visit,  it  is  very 
likely,  after  so  long  an  interval,  I  would  not  again  have  sought 
their  acquaintance ;  for  I  recollected  once  hearing  Mr.  Hob- 
house say,  that  unless  a  superior  called  upon  an  inferior  it 
might  subject  him  to  a  repulse.  The  world  generally  thinks 
differently  ;  and  I  believe  it  is  held  to  be  good  manners  for 
an  inferior  to  pay  his  respects  to  a  superior.  However,  this 
ia  a  matter  of  etiquette  to  which  I  do  not  attach  much  im- 
portance. Perhaps  it  has  been  a  fault  with  me  to  pay  too  little 
attention  to  things  of  that  sort. 

During  the  time  I  was  obliged  to  confine  myself  to  the  mo- 
nastery I  had  only  literature  for  pastime,  and  having  a  turn  for 
"  poem  making,"  I  employed  myself  in  that  unprofitable  in- 
dustry ;  nor  was  I  without  a  plausible  excuse  to  myself  for 
doing  so ;  verses  were  things  of  small  bulk,  easily  carried 
about,  and  if  lumber,  were  not  heavy.  But  what  leads  me  to 
mention  my  predilection  here  is  the  discovery  of  the  curious 
coincidence  before  alluded  to.    Lord  Byron  was  then  engaged 


m 


JOHN  OALT. 


107 


■I 


on  the  composition  of  Childe  Harold,  which  he  began,  it  ie 
said,  in  Albania,  and  I  was  also  occupied  on  a  poem  of  the 
some  structure,  the  Spenserian  measure,  a  pilgrimage  to  Pal- 
estine,  containing  descriptions  of  the  different  scenes  which  I 
should  myself  see;  with  only  this  difference  from  the  plan  of 
his  lordship's  work,  that  my  hero  was  a  kindly  tuneful  per- 
sonage, and  "  the  Childe"  was,  as  Byron  said  himself,  "  a 
d  d  bad  character."  My  poem  was  called  "  II  Inconsue- 
to."   I  have  lost  the  manuscript. 

In  mentioning  this  circumstance,  I  deprecate  the  suspicion 
of  being  supposed  for  a  moment  guilty  of  thinking  there  was 
any  thing  but  the  verse  and  theme  which  resembled  the  cel- 
ebrated "  Romanute."  The  coincidence  is  very  surprising, 
for  I  never  saw  his  lordship's  production,  and  though  acquain- 
ted with  mine,  he  was  as  ignorant  of  it. 

This  is  not  all :  the  rape  of  the  temples  by  Lord  Elgin  was 
at  that  time  the  theme  of  every  English  tongue  that  came  to 
Athens.  While  there,  I  wrote  the  "  Atheniad,"  a  mock  epic, 
in  which  the  gods  and  goddesses  avenge  the  cause  of  Minerva. 
His  lordship  saw  the  manuscript.  He  afterwards  published 
his  "  Curse  of  Minerva."  But  the  singular  train  of  similarities 
does  not  end  here.  I  was  always  of  opinion,  and  frequent- 
ly spoke  of  it,  that  another  epic  could  only  be  a  secondary 
thing;  in  June,  1810,  I  expressed  this  idea  in  the  "Letters 
from  the  Levant,"  which  were  published  in  1813.  The  pas- 
sage is, — 

"  The  literature  of  the  Greeks  exalts  into  virtues  those  qual- 
ities which  are  calculated  to  make  war  v  Imirable  for  its  own 
sake,  and  praises  those  exploits  wiiich,  undertaken  for  pri*- 
vate  motives,  are  justly  held  to  be  great  crimes.  Do  you 
think  if  a  poem  of  equal  genius  to  the  Iliad  had  been  compi^ 
sed  in  its  place,  and  had  been  as  derogatory  to  the  military 
character  as  the  masterpiece  of  mankind  is  the  reverse,  that 
martial  glory  would  at  this  time  have  been  held  in  so  much 
esteem?  I  think  not.  It  was  a  happy  thought  of  Milton,  to 
represent  the  heathen  deities  as  so  many  devils,  who  opposed 


108 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


t 


II.    -3 


by  practical  influence  the  will  and  pleasure  of  Heaven.  If 
there  can  be  a  new  epic  poem  composed,  which  shall  have 
charms  enough  to  counteract  the  spirit  of  the  Iliad,  the  theme 
must  be  something  else  than  war/'  Don  Juan  approximates 
very  nearly  to  my  idea. 

Whatever  the  reader  may  think  of  these  coincidences,  to 
me  they  arc  very  curious,  and  show  how  insensibly  minds 
accidentally  coming  in  contact  may  affect  each  other.  But  I 
have  a  still  more  remarkable  instance  to  adduce,  which  shall 
be  duly  brought  forward,  respecting  Lord  Byron,  and  it  is  in- 
dependent of  me.    But  to  resume  my  own  narrative. 

Having  in  another  form  and  in  different  places  given  an 
account  of  nil  that  particularly  interested  me  at  Athens,  it 
would  only  enlarge  this  book  to  repeat  much  of  what  I  have 
said,  notwithstanding  I  consider  it  as  not  having  attracted 
quite  so  much  attention  as  it  merited  at  the  time,  for  it  did 
not  then  fall  within  the  scope  of  my  design  to  make  myself 
too  prominent.  Accordingly,  in  looking  over  my  Letters  from 
the  Levant,  1  find  they  afford  but  an  inadequate  idea  of  my 
condition  during  much  of  my  first  visit  to  Athens.  This  work 
is,  however,  of  a  different  kind,  and  it  may  not  be  improper 
here  to  speak  more  of  myselfl  ^      t    ,  ■    ,  ,-;,' 

My  health  for  some  time  did  not  improve,  and  those  in- 
describable sensations  which  are  ever  attendant  on  nervous 
diseases  rendered  me  often  very  uncomfortable,  in  so  much 
that  all  my  projects  were  suspended ;  and  I  sent  my  servant 
in  consequence  to  the  island  of  Spezzia  to  bring  our  lug- 
gage from  the  Saint  Nicole,  being  disposed  to  remain  at 
Athens  indefinitely.  Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Hobhouse  departed 
by  the  Pylades  sloop  of  war.  Captain  Ferguson,  who  offered 
me  also  a  passage  to  Smyrna,  and  who  had  brought  Mr. 
Galton  and  Dr.  Darwin,  a  son  of  the  renowned  medico-poet, 
with  him,  but  I  was  in  no  humour  to  resume  my  travels,  even 
if  I  had  been  in  possession  of  my  luggage.  Scarcely,  how- 
ever, was  I  left  alone,  when  the  weather,  which  had  been 
bleak  and  cold,  changed,  and  my  indisposition  again  lessened. 


JOHN   OAI.T. 


109 


Still  I  had  comparatively  little  inclination  to  ^  a  abutiad  ^ 
yondthe  ruins  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympu.^,  or  the  A  ^e- 
opagus,  and  the  monument  of  Philippapus.  My  reflections 
at  that  time  and  on  those  places  appear  to  have  been  compe- 
tently dull,  for  among  my  paper^j  are  the  following  verses,  in 
which  my  ruminations  were  probably  expressed. 

(  '  ODE. 


With  leisure,  and  a  pen  at  hand, 
Wlio  can  the  muse's  will  withstand? 
Who  can  resist,  possessing  these, 
And  breathing  genius  in  Greece, 
To  let  liis  idle  fancy  piny 
At  numbers  and  the  tinlcling  lay? 

II. 

While  here  I  range  on  classic  ground, 
O'er  relics  of  the  long  ren(»wn'd, 
And  see  the  hinda  that  toil  for  bread 
RIest  as  were  e'er  the  famous  dead  , 
As  happy  with  their  frugal  aim 
As  those  that  lived  and  died  for  fame  > 

HI. 
And  whilel  wand'ring  here   inquire, 
Where  the  bright  sage  and  i»ard  of  fire, 
Who  glory  ray'd  in  ancient  times, 
Tiiat  still  illumines  distant  climes, 
Were  wont  to  shed  the  radiant  thought,- 
And  tind  them  all  like  hinds  forgot  ,— 

IV 

The  proud,  the  strong,  the  daring  fiend. 
That  ever  tempts  me  to  ascend, 
Abash'd  relaxes,  and  content, 
Aslis  with  some  gentle  blandishment, 
What  boots  the  crown  or  laurel  wreath 
To  them  that  sleep  in  peaceful  death  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Elgin  marbles.     The  Atheniad. 

T  HAVE  now  to  record  a  transaction  not  known  hitherto  to  the 
public,  and  little  to  my  friends,in  consequence  of  that  tacitur- 

K 


110 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OV 


K 


R  ' 


I  ^   / 


nity  respecting  my  transactions  which  this  undertaking  obliges 
me  to  disregard. 

During  the  latter  part  of  my  stay  for  the  first  time  at 
Athens,  Signoro  Lusieri,  the  agent  of  the  Earl  of  Elgin,  ship- 
ped in  a  (irock  vessel  part  of  the  marbles  wiiich  are  now 
the  pride  of  the  British  Museum.  My  old  acquaintance 
Mon.  Fauvol,  the  French  consul,  made  much  ado  to  stop  such 
an  atrocious  robbery,  in  order  that  he  might  afterwards  send 
them  into  the  holy  keeping  of  the  Emperor  in  Paris,  and  did 
all  he  could  to  frighten  the  governor,  or  way  wode,  from  being 
accessary  to  the  unheard  of  crime,  the  mere  imagination  of 
which  made 

"  Each  particular  htiir  toHfnnd  on  rnd, 
liiktM|iiillsiipi)ii  llic  frciful  poicuplnc," 

of  M.  Fauvcl.    But  Lusicri  was  his  match. 

Lusieri's  bills  on  account  of  the  marbles  were  not  honoured 
by  the  carl's  agents,  nevertheless,  he  kept  his  knowledge  of 
the  fact  to  himself  and  shipped  off 

"TJio  giblefs  of  old  idolatry." 

But  how  was  the  freight  to  be  paid  when  the  ship  reached 
Malta  "gave  him  pause."  At  the  eleventh  hour  he  came  to 
me  and  disclosed  his  sad  condition. 

The  dilemma  was  trying,  and  I  frankly  confess  my  com- 
mercial cupidity  obtained  the  ascendancy.  Here  was  a  chance 
of  the  most  exquisite  relics  of  art  in  the  world  becoming  mine, 
and  a  speculation  by  the  sale  of  them  in  London  that  would 
realize  a  fortune.  The  temptation  was  too  great.  My  corres- 
pondents at  Malta  were  Messrs.  Struthers,  Kennedy,  and 
Co.,  to  whom  I  wrote  to  pay  the  bills  upon  receiving  the 
stones,  &c.,  &.C.,  and  I  shipped  myself  on  board  the  vessels 
that  I  might  sec  her  safely  to  Hydra,  where  she  was  to 
put  herself  under  the  protection  of  a  man  of  war.  According- 
ly that  evening  we  sailed  with  our  precious  cargo,  and  next 
morning  arrived  at  Hydra,  from  which  the  vessel  was  con- 
veyed to  Malta.  But  on  her  arrival  there,  the  agent  for  the 
earl  paid  the  bills,  and  my  patriotic  cupidity  was  frustrated. 

It  should  be  confessed  that  1  had  a  suspicion  of  this  coming 


I 


JOHN  OALT. 


Ill 


\, 


to  pawH»  for  I  could  not  iinagino  the  ngents  at  Malta  of  Ix)r(l 
El^iii  would  refuse  the  bills  after  b(Mng  in  i)08tje88ion  of  the 
statue:*.  But  the  transaction  nioritod  some  recognition,  which 
the  11  ;ble  earl  never  made,  even  thou{,'h  I  also  imhecHUatcd 
a  mock  heroic  poem  on  the  Rape  of  the  Temples,  in  which 
I  vva>*  myself  so  guilty  of  being  accesisary  in  art  or  part. 

Thi  same  rape  is  curious  in  many  particulars.  I  saw  the 
firniRh  on  which  Lord  Elgin  cofninenced  the  dilapidation  ot 
the  Temples,  and  as  I  did  not  understand  Turkish,  the  person 
who  read  it  to  me  said  ii  was  only  to  remove  a  Btonc ;  and 
my  Greek  servant  was  op  board  the  ship  with  the  first  cargo 
wrecked  on  the  island  of  Cytherea,  or  C^irigo.  As  for  the 
Atheniad,  since  the  copy  for  this  sheet  was  sent  to  the  prin- 
ters, the  original  manuscript  has  been  found,  and  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Goody  Two  shoes,  hero  it  ia  The  omissions  are, 
of  course,  not  renewed,  though  they  would  probably  have 
made  it  a  riciier  treat.  But,  independent  of  the  subject,  it 
has  some  particular  claim  to  attention  as  a  poem  written  at 
Athens,  (the  reader  may  calculate  in  what  Olympiad,)  in 
the  monument  of  Lysicrates,  alias  the  Lantern  of  Demos- 
thenes, which,  adjoining  the  monastery,  was  made  use  of  by 
me  as  a  study. 


ATHEMAD. 


ii 


Atlienia's  wrongs,  O  heavenly  Muse  rehearse, 

And-iinji;  the  gods  of  Greece  in  English  verse  l— 

Atliwnia,  fairest  of  the  mural  fair, 

Whose  fuming  altars  fed  the  savoury  air, 

Dejected  saw  beneath  th'  ojipreseor's  sway, 

ller  tropiiies  perisii  and  her  stones  decay. 

No  joy  she  knew,  but  only  grief  refined, 

VVljen  far  come  travellers  paused  or  look'd  behind. 

Paused  to  indulge  the  sigh  for  glories  past. 

Or  wandering  look'd  that  stones  so  long  should  laat. 

But  this  sad  solace  Fate  decreed  must  eease, 

And  Mercury  fliea  to  end  the  pride  of  Gieece. 

On  earth  arrived,  the  form  divine  obscured, 
He  seems  a  mortal  man  to  arts  inured ; 
Cadaverous,  crafty,  skilled  in  tints  and  lines, 
A  lean  Italian  master  of  designs.   , 
He  sought  Brucides.  and  Brucides  found, 


It  1? 


112  THX  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  O  Lord,"  he  cries,  "  ray  Lord  for  taste  renown'd, 
What  fame  awaits  you,  were  your  Lordstiip.wise, 
And  who  that  Icnows  your  Lordship  that  denies. 
Th'  Athenian  temples  long  deserted  stand, 
Their  sculptures  tumbling  in  the  Turk's  rude  hand. 
Haute,  save  the  relics,  bear  them  to  your  home, 
The  lights  of  art  for  agea  yet  to  come. 
Grudge  not  the  cost,  the  marbles,  countless  price 
Would  buy  the  profits  of  rich  embassies." 

Fired  by  the  scheme,  his  wuy  Brucidcs  took. 
And  public  tasks,  and  trusts  of  state  forsook  ; 
With  ready  gold  he  calls  men,  carts,  and  cords, 
Cords,  carts,  and  men,  rise  at  the  baited  words. 
The  ropes  asunder  rive  tiie  wedded  stone, 
The  mortals  labour,  and  the  axles  groan, 
Hymettus  echoes  to  the  tumbling  fane, 
And  shook  th' Acropolis, — shakes  all  the  plain. 

From  high  Olympus  gazed  the  gods  afar. 
Indignant  gazed  that  man  their  wrath  should  dare. 
"  Fates,"  they  exclaimed,  "  that  guides  the  course  of  things. 
And  from  whose  cave,  the  streams  of  action  springs, 
Has  justly  shown  in  every  age  and  time. 
That  Retribution  sternly  follows  c:ime. 
Shall  we  then  tamely  see  our  temples  torn. 
And  o'er  the  seas  the  Grecian  relies  t)orne ; 
'  See  that  Brucides  glorious  become, 

Like  the  bold  youth  that  fired  th'  Ephesian  dome? 

No,  by  the  Styx,"  with  raised  right  hands  they  cried  ! 

Jove  nodded,  and  the  oath  was  ratified. 

AppalI'd  the  Heavens,  and  Earth  received  the  sign,  < 

The  sun  in  clouds  conceai'd  his  face  divine  ; 

The  winds  lamented,  and  the  rain  in  tears, 

Filled  the  lone  traveller  on  the  waste  with  fears ; 

Thieves  of  the  dead,  though  grasping  at  the  urn, 

Scar'd  by  the  shower,  the  scafiers  return, 

And  their  abortive  toil,  the  antiquaries  mourn.  i 

On  war  resolv'd,  the  heavenly  powers  prepare, 
And  eager  all  the  work  of  vengeance  share ; 
To  each  the  part  that  best  belits  is  given, 
So  Heaven  appoints,— can  kings  appoint  like  Heaven  ? 

Lo !  smoothly  wafted  by  the  breathing  gales, 
A  ship  with  sacrilegious  plunder  sails, — 
The  busy  creek  of  rocky  Hydra  past, 
And  o'er  the  starboard  far  La  Spezzia  cast, 
Cerigo  nears,  while  on  the  distant  view, 
The  bills  of  Maina  rise  serene  and  blue ; 
Those  rugged  mountains,  where  in  savage  pride, 
Still  uoaubdued  the  Spartan  race  reside. 


:^4 


JOHN    OALT. 


113 


Deprived  of  all,  they  independence  vaunt,  ! 

And  gluriuus  live  in  liberty  and  want. 

True  to  his  trust,  and  wakeful  on  the  steep, 
iEoluH  scann'd  afar  the  rippling  deep  ; 
And  by  the  sapience  of  his  slate  divine,  • 

Knew  the  curs't  bark  that  stlrr'd  the  azure  brine  ;— 
Recall'd  the  gales  tliat  gently  urged  her  on, 
And  bade  the  winds  attend  his  misty  throne. 
The  wliidd  obeyed.    Birocca  came  tiie  first, 
Pluto's  dire  son,  by  Airia  desert-nurst ; 
Languid  hldcyes,  andHeecy  white  his  hair, 
lie  breathes  contagion  and  inspires  despair. 
At  his  approach  the  gay  flowers  sickly  bend. 
And  bird:-  dejected  own  the  present  fiend ; 
Sicilian  youiiis  invoke  the  god  of  sleep, 
And  women  weeping,  wonder  how  they  weep. 
Next  Tramontan  beneath  whose  breezy  sway 
Tiie  tides  of  lil'e  in  brisker  eddies  play. 
From  his  bright  brow  and  clear  blue  cheerful  eyes 
Dejection  spreads  her  mothlike  wings  and  flies. 
Him  fair  Hygia  to  rude  Boreas  bore. 
And  left  with  Fortune  on  the  Lapland  shore. 
The  fickle  nymph  grew  careless  of  the  charge, 
And  the  bold  boy  ran  wand' ring  wide  at  large. 
This  heard  the  mother,  who  in  anxious  haste, 
With  stretched  hand  pursued  him  o'er  tlie  waste: 
Still  unembrac'd  he  shuns  her  stretched  hands. 
And  roves  a  Libertine  in  foreign  lands — 
VVuh  him  Favenius,  but  the  sul)ject  Muse, 
By  Pliocbus  order'd,  now  her  tale  renews  ; 
Else  would  she  sing  what  airy  tasks  perform. 
The  fire-eyed  tempest  and  the  howling  storm, 
The  cool-vving'd  zephyr  ot  the  mountain's  brow  ; 
The  gales  thatchace  the  gossamer  below  ; 
The  sighs  that  haunt  the  rip'ning  virgin's  breast, 
Th' exploits  of  flatulence,  ih' unwelcome  guest. 
These  she  should,  pleas'd  in  lofty  strains,  relate. 
But  gods  controul  the  verse  and  will  another  fate. 

The  winds  instructed  rush  to  raise  the  war— 
^olus  fiercely  mounts  his  winged  car, 
And  gaining  Neptune's  crystal  portal  cries^ 
"Lord  of  the  sounding  seas,  awake,  arise. 
Mortals  profane,  th'  Athenian  temples  rend. 
And  o'er  thy  wide  domain  the  fiagments  send. 
Deep  charged  with  spoil  a  ship  presumptuous  moves. 
And  vaiii  alone  his  hate  ^Eolus  proves." 
AioUiB  pausd,  the  god  of  ocean  heard, 
Rais'd  his  rough  front,  and  shook  his  hoary  beard. 
"  Why  chides  the  sovereign  of  the  winds,"  he  cried, 

K2 


114 


THE   AVTOBIOORAFHY  OF 


li  '4 


if.  I 


And  seised  the  trident  resting  at  tiis  side. 

Blow  niurmurer,  blow,  squeeze  all  your  bags  and  blow, 

And  let  the  vessel  to  perdition  go." 

iEolus  fetched  his  breath,  low-bending,  blew, 

And  Neptune  rising  the  dread  trideni,  threw— 

Itstrikezs— The  vessel  founders  in  the  waves, 

And  aw'd  Cerigo  mourns  from  all  iier  caves. 

Meanwhile  Minerva,  who  of  all  the  powers 
That  mourned  indignantly  their  ravish'd  towers, 
Su&red  the  most — advanced  with  keenest  rage, 
To  aim  the  vengeance,  and  the  war  to  wage ; 
Against  Brucides'  seff  she  urged  her  plans, 
And  deeds  the  goddess  did,  appear  the  man's — 
Revenge  she  seeks  by  various  means  and  ways, 
Inspires  his  pen,  and  strikes  his  brain  with  craze. 
Delirious  fancies  tliat  were  never  thought. 
Helpless  Brucides  innocently  wrote. 
From  the  charm'd  pen  a  strange  perversion  springs. 
He  thinks  of  statues  and  it  writes  down  kings; 
Basso-ielievos  occupy  his  brain. 
While  towns  and  armies  fill  the  paper  plain : 
His  doom  at  length  tiie  froward  pen  piovokes, 
For  British  statesmen;  writing  maible  blocks. 
At  liome  the  sages,  struck  with  sad  surprise. 
Gaze  on  the  page  with  nostrils,  mouth,  and  eyes— 
With  mouth  apert  and  nostrils  wide  and  round. 
The  senseless  slaves  of  wonder  still  are  found. 
Thrice  and  agam  his  paper  all  peruse. 
Thrice  and  again  each  sage  his  neighbours  views : 
Thrice  and  again  each  sagecssay'd  to  speak. 
And  tears,  as  statesmen  weep,  run  dovvn  each  cheek. 
"  Calls  he  us  marble  blocks,"  at  once  they  cry, 

'  Yes,  marble  blocks,"  th«  Treasury  vaults  reply. 
"Then,  Ift  the  wretch,''  they  all  again  cxclaijn, 
"  No  Innsier  bear  a  diplomatic  name." 
With  canvas  wings  the  fiat  leaves  the  shore — 
Tlie  man  exists,  the  minister's  no  more. 

Dejected,  homeward  now  he  winds  his  way. 
With  slow,  reluctant,  amorous  delay. 
Him  fair  Italia's pictured domes'detnin. 
Nor  trophied  France  invites  to  stay  in  vain  ; 
Gay  France,  that  boasts  the  two  best  sculpiured  stones, 
Bought  with  the  blood  of  thousands  of  hci  sons. 

With  fervent  ire  that  tliough  of  power  bereft,' 
Brucides  still  had  sprightly  pleasures  left;     ' 
The  l>luc-eyed  goddess  for  her  chariot  calls. 
Proudly  the  steeds  come  neighing  from  their  stalls. 
The  conscious  car  exults  in  all  its  springs. 


JOHN  GALT. 


115 


And  o'er  the  steeds  the  glittering  harness  flings. 
Minerva  mounts,  and  through  th*  empyrean  drawn, 
(Her  prugregB  brightening  iilie  the  solar  dawn,) 
Down  the  steep  slope  of  Heaven  directs  her  course 
Steers  tlie  prone  chariot  and  restrains  the  horse. 
Slie  drives  to  Paris.    In  their  swift  career 
The  golden  wlieels  Uke  whirling  Ares  appear. 
A  sage,  with  astronomic  tube  afar, 
Afore  one  sees,  and  hails  the  new  found  star ; 
Describes  its  motions,  calculates  its  speed, 
And  gains,  like  Herschel,  an  immortal  meed. 
So  movetlie  gods  to  man's  imperfect  glance — 
'  And  wljo  could  think  a  goddess  drove  to  France. 

Arrived,  her  chariot  in  the  clouds  sheU  ives, 
And  in  tlie  form  of  Talleyrand  deceives. — 
Inspires  the  Consul,  and  with  skill  divine. 
Makes  lier  stern  purpose  politic  design. 
She  bids  bufore  his  eager  fancy  stand. 
The  British  throng  throughout  ills  subject  land — 
That  idle  throng  of  every  kind,  who  sped 
To  learn  new  luxuries  of  board  and  bed, 
When  France  in  peace  and  ancient  nicknames  dealt, 
And  gained  repose  to  plan  new  modes  of  guilt. 
These  she  array'd  in  all  the  charms  that  grace 
The  best  and  bravest  of  the  Briiisii  race, 
With  wisdom,  valour,  riches,  beauty,  all, 
That  wins  in  council,  camp,  or  court,  or  ball. 
"  But  these,"  she  cries,  O  Heaven-sent  chief  detain, 
And  soon  Britannia  must  resign  the  main. 
Possessing  these,  her  genius  you  controul, 
'  or  wanting  them  she  wants  her  life  and  soul. 
Behold  BrucidesI  and  his  face  peruse; 
What  signs  of  sense,  and  long  prospective  views, 
Denotes  that  moon  of  flesh,  so  round  and  full, 
And  see  that  dungeon  vault  of  wit  his  skull. 
Oh !  all  ye  deities  addressed  in  song, 
Inspire  our  chief  to  keep  this  precious  throng  ; 
But  prime  o'er  all,  may  he  Brucides  hold ; 
A  prize  more  precious  than  the  Greeks  of  old 
From  Ilion  stolp,  before  the  heavenly  powers 
Resigned  to  Fate  the  long  beleaguered  towers. 
So  shall  Britainiiii,  her  palladium  lost, 
Receive  the  con(iueror  and  enrich  his  host." 

The  here  smiled,  that  Talleyrand  in  zeal, 
Should  still  the  force  of  former  habits  feel, 
And  I  "ay ;  but  more  because  tiic  council  shrewd. 
Showed  an  appearance  of  renown  renewed. 
Forili  flies  Ih'  arrete,  and  every  Br'tish  guest, 
With  helpless  passion  bans  the  due  arrest. 


116 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


! 


I    ■ 


i\ 


Thus  heavenly  causes  lake  effect  on  eartb, 
And  statesmen  gossiping  proclaim  the  birth. 

Meanwhile  refulgent  Mars  commissioned  comes, 
With  ringing  cymbals  and  resounding  drums. 
His  fervid  influence  fires  ihe  madding  world, 
Arms  scoured  shine  bright  and  standards  wave  unfurled. 
8t.  Stephen's  windows,  at  the  dead  of  night, 
Glare  on  the  Than)C:ii  a  dull  portentous  light. 
But  fierce  o'er  Athens'  consecrated  walls, 
The  zenith  fervor  of  the  Godhead  falls. 
Oh,  Muse  divine !  rehearse  with  kindred  zeal 
Wliat  happened  there — the  battle  of  the  wheel. 

In  oldeii  times,  ere  on  the  banks  of  Nile 
The  Gallic  warriors  fed  the  crocodile — 
Ere  Atheist  antiquaries^banded  there, 
Discovered  temples  older  than  the  air. 
And  proved,  by  hieroglyphic  beasts  and  birds, 
(TJie  patriarchal  ancestors  of  words ;) 
That  earth  was  never  made,  nor  mortal  man. 
And  time's  gieat  clock,  aye,  without  makei  ran  ; 
From  famed  Byzantium  to  old  Athens  came, 
A  four-wheeled  waggon  of  stupendous  frame. 
With  what  intent  Discord  alone  can  tell; 
Discord  it  was  that  sent  it  to  Fauvel. 
While  yet  tlie  axles  with  the  journey  glowed, 
And  the  wheels'  tracts  shone  recent  on  the  road. 
Spread  wond'rous  tidings,  that  th'  unwarning  Frencli 
With  blood  and  water  ravished  Egypt  drench — 
Alarmed  Fauvel,  the  Turkish  sabre  flies. 
And  in  his  shed  tire  cart  abandoned  lies  ; 
The  Turks,  exalting  at  so  rare  a  pledge. 
For  royal  Efiypt  seized  the  four-wheeled  sledge, 
And  when  Britannia,  with  triumphsnt  arms, 
Restored  the  land  to  rapine  and  alarms. 
The  Turks  to  recompense,  with  generous  heart, 
Gave  to  her  drogonian  the  fatal  cart, 
He,  Greek- like,  iioping  thrice  its  price  to  gain, 
Informs  Dontitos,  and  bestows  the  wain. 
Dontitos,  chieftain  of  the  cords  and  crew, 
That  from  their  frames  the  sacred  sculptures  drew; 
Hence  sprung  the  occasion,  why  tremendous  Mars 
Came  down  below,  and  filled  the  world  with  wars. 
Wars  that  expelled  the  Ccesar  from  his  throne, 
Made  pious  Spain  three  powerless  kings  bemoan ; 
And  stirring  strong,  in  stomachs  proud  and  high. 
Forced  Casllercagh  at  Canning  to  let  fly. 

What  time  Minerva,  as  Ihe  Muse  has  sung, 
fcJeem'd  Talleyrand  with  shrewd  persuasive  tongoe ; 


JOHN  OAI/r. 


117 


Fauvel  to  his  Athenian  home  returned, 
But  Discord's  four-w>ieeled  gifl  long  lost  he  moumed. 
Pensive  he  walked  Iliyssus'  sedgy  brink, 
Illyssus'  stream,  that  a  young  drake  might  drinlc. 

Scans  the  great  columns  of  Olympian  Jove, 
And  wistful  eyes  ih'  Acropolis  above. 
Reflects  on  n«4ble  enterprises  crost, 
Ami  his  Itysantian  cart  untimely  lost. 

One  fatal  morn,  by  chance  or  fortune  led, 
The  wretched  chief  had  left  his  sleepless  bed, 
And  sadly  passing  Hadrian's  stately.arch. 
Faced  lo  the  right  and  westward  cliose  to  march. 
Eventful  march  !  two  oxen  there  he  saw, 
Driven  by  a  Greek,  a  loaded  waggon  draw. 
The  unusual  sight  like  magic  charms  his  eyes, 
Till  captive  in  iho  ncariiig  wain  he  spies 
An  orphan  wheel  of  his  lamented  cart. 
Surprise  wilh  quick  electric  roused  his  heart ; 
Courageous  grasping  firm  his  stick,  he  ran, 
Stopped  the  two  oxen,  and  menaced  the  man  ; 
The  man  retreating  in  amazement ;  flew 
And  told  Dontitos,  for  the  oxen  drew 
Relics  of  Greece  and  fragments  of  her  skill,' 
The  worshipp'd  offspring  of  Pentele'«  hill. 
Pentele's  hill,  within  whose  quarried  cave 
The  travellers  ponder  and  their  names  engrave. 
Dontitos  started,  seized  his  hat  and  cane, 
White  beuver  hat  with  black  cockade  so  plain, 
Which  Turks  admiring  called  the  moon  of  power 
And  strode  majestic  from  his  lofty  tower. 
Th'  approaching  chief  Fauvel  descries  afar. 
And  bravely  meets  him  half  way  from  the  car ; 
"  That  wheel  is  mine/'-  he  points  his  stick  and  cries; 
Dontitos  strove  to  frown  with  both  his  eyes. 
«»  That  wheel  is  mine,  I  say,"  Fauvel  repeats ; 
Dontitos  answers — and  his  bosom  beats— 
"  Your  wheel  /"  "  Yes,  mine."   Dontitos  cries,  •'  it  may, 
Out  I  will  write  my  Lord, "—and  turning,  walked  away. 

As  pleased  the  Muse  the  theme  of  strife  would  yield. 
As  the  tired  warrior  quits  the  well-fought  field 
To  join  his  friends  and  rural  home  again. 
No  more  a  tenant  of  the  tented  plain. 
Could  thoughts  like  his  be  mingled  wilh  the  lay ; 
Spring's  cheerful  morn,  or  summer's  jocund  day, 
Th'  autumnal  eve,  when  jibes  sarcastic  please, 
And  the  long  wi  nter  nights  of  tales  and  ease. 

O,  gentle  Venua !  at  whose  glowing  shrine 
The  bard  oft  kneeling  owns  thy  power  divine. 


118 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


For  once  thy  triumphs  ho  reluctant  sings, 
Her  face  the  loth  muse  veiling  with  her  winga ; 
But  Juno  conies, — willi  interdictions  strong, 
Forbids  the  thouglit,  and  cramps  the  sprightly  song. 

Apollo's  wrath  alone  unsung  remains ; 
His  was  to  celebrate  in  epic  strains 
These  great  achievments  and  success  sublime 
Things  unnttenipted  or  in  prose  or  rhyme ; 
Fur  this  ho  chose  th'  heroic  British  verse. 
Balanced  the  lines,  and  bade  the  baid  rehearse. 
Tliua  wrought  tlie  gods  in  old  Alhenia's  cause, 
A\engcd  their  fanes,  and  will'd  llie  wcrid's  applause. 


\ 


sS'j 


JOHN  GALT. 


119 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Hydra.    Zea.    Scios. 
of  the  Turks. 


Measure  a  brass  cannon.     Simplicity 


At  Hydra,  I  found  a  vessel  bound  for  Scios  and  after  examin- 
ing that  very  curious  island  with  a  view  to  my  purpose,  I 
took  my  passage  by  her,  for  it  appeared  that  the  rivalry  among 
the  inhabitants  rendered  it  by  no  means  the  fittest  place  for 
my  establishment.  The  scheme  required  a  certain  kind  of 
predominance  which  could  not  be  obtained  in  so  populous  a 
place,  and  vessels  were  continually  going  to  all  ports  that  they 
then  could  enter,  and  might  blab  those  secrets  which  were 
essential  to  the  execution  of  the  plan.  It  required,  indeed, 
only  a  glance  to  see  that  Hydra  was  not  the  place  ;  and  the 
objections  to  it  applied  to  the  neighbouring  island  of  Spezzia. 

But  though  Hydra  possessed  not  those  facilities  which  I 
was  now  in  search  of,  it  is  a  very  singular  island,  and  during 
my  stay  there  I  was  greatly  entertained  by  the  scene  it  pres- 
ented. 

In  the  voyage  from  Hydra  to  Scios,  the  master  of  the 
schooner,  or  the  skipper  of  the  hoy,  or  the  Carubatchere  of 
Martigan,  or  by  whatever  name  he  may  be  called,  was  in- 
duced to  go  into  the  harbour  of  Zea,  in  the  island  of  that 
name,  and  to  stop  a  short  time.  Every  one  acquainted  with 
the  Archipelago,;_^knows  that  for  its  extent  the  harbour  of  Zea 
is  one  of  the  finest  in  that  region,  or  indeed  anywhere ;  it  ia 
land  locked,  a  loch  as  we  would  call  it  in  Scotland,  and  in 
every  respect  was  suitable  to  my  purpose.  But  the  very  op- 
posite of  the  objection  to  Hydra  existed  there. .  The  town 
stands  at  a  considerable  distance  on  the  mountain,  and  the  soli- 
tude of  the  place  rendered  "it  impossible  for  any  vessel  to  come 
or  go  without  exciting  observation. 

1  had  no  intention  of  settling  on  Scios,  and  merely  went  to 


120 


THB    AirrOBIOORAPHT    OF 


it  for  the  gratification  of  my  curiosity.  We  arrived  late  in 
the  evening  off  the  island,  and  with  some  difficulty,  landed 
next  day. 

While  we  stayed  at  Scios,  the  heat  of  the  weather  and  the 
fatigue  endured  in  walking  about  compelled  me  at  last  to  take 
refuge  in  a  coffee-house,  much  frequented  by  Greek  and  Frank 
ship-masters  and  merchants.    And  in  this  place,  from  a  con- 
versation with  a  Frank  stranger,  I  had  reason  to  believe,  if 
his  report  was  true,  that  the  island  of  Myconi  was  the  very 
place  I  was  in  search  of.     His  information  quickened  my  cu- 
riosity, and  I  determmed  to  visit  that  island,  but  previously  to 
see  Smyrna   and  the  ruins  of  Ephesus.    Accordingly  next 
morning  I  hired  a  boat  to  take  me  up  the  gulf  of  Smyrna,  and 
proceeded  thither.    In  the  sail  no  adventure  occurred  ;  but  in 
passing  one  of  the  forts  I  landed  and  measured  the  size  of  an 
enormous  piece  of  brass  ordnance ;  the  circumference  of  the 
calibre  was  sixty-five  inches.    While  employed  in  this  work, 
the  innocent  Turks  belonging  to  the  garrison  gathered  round, 
and  it  never  occurred  to  me  till  I  was  again  at  some  distance 
from  the  place,  the  foolisliness  of  the  action.    1  wonder  what 
would  be  said,  were  a  Turk  here  to  land  on  the  fortifications 
of  Portsmouth,  and  measure  the  size  of  the  guns  in  the  midst 
of  the  soldiers.    But  it  quite  escaped  me  that  the  Turkish 
soldiers  had  any  thing  to  do  with  the  matter.    I  have  often 
thought  since,  that  the  enterprise  was  one  of  the  most  ibol-har- 
dy  and  thoughtless  of  which  a  man  could  well  be  guilty. 

While  at  Smyrna  I  learned  some  particulars  respecting 
Scalla  Nova,  which  induced  me  to  determine  on  makinff  an 
excursion  to  that  town  in  visiting  the  ruins  of  Eplicsus,  and 
in  consequence  when  I  set  out  for  the  latter  place  I  went 
^rst  towards  Scalla  Nova. 


JOHN   OALT. 


121 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Ephesus.    Cheruhims.     Sailed  for  Samos.  Myconi.   House 
there.    Malta.   Resolved  to  return  to  the  Levant.    A  note. 


At  Scalla  Nova  I  staid  the  greatest  part  of  a  day  engaged  on 
my  commercial  inquiries,  which,  although  not  entirely  satis- 
factory, contributed  to  the  ripening  of  my  project.  I  then  re- 
turned by  the  ruins  of  Ephesus  to  Smyrna.  While  at  the 
former  place  I  purchased  tor  fifteen  piastres  a  marble  Bac- 
chus, as  well  executed,  at  least,  as  any  of  tliose  monstrous 
cherubirns  with  wings,  who,  in  the  shape  of  11 1  cliildren,  are 
still  seen  perched  by  our  artists  of  the  last  age,  among  the 
effigies  of  great  men,  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

At  Smyrna  I  took  my  passage  for  Vathi,  in  Samos,  but  as 
the  wind  was  gentle  I  had  no  great  expectation  of  a  short 
passage.  The  weather  was  however  pleasant,  and  it  was  not 
ccaiaistent  with  my  objects  to  be  in  a  hurry. 

On  the  second  day  atler  our  departure  we  arrived  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  larger  of  two  islands,  in  the  gulf  of 
Smyrna,  that  have  some  how  or  another  tlie  name  of  the  Eng- 
lisli  islands,  and  I  went  on  shore.  I  found  it  inhabited  by  two 
or  three  Turkish  shepherds,  and  engaged  one  of  them  as  a 
guide  to  conduct  me  to  a  port  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  isl- 
and, where  I  was  informed  several  ancient  arches  and  a  cis- 
tern might  still  be  seen ;  but  they  all  came,  dogs  and  all. 

The  ruins  consisted  of  upwards  of  a  hundred  groined  vaults, 
supported  by  rude  square  pillars,  something  like  those  of  the 
tobacco  warehouses  at  the  London  docks.  We  afterwards 
sailed  for  the  port  of  Foscia,  also  to  inspect  it;  but  neither  of 
tliese  places,  though  the  latter  ha'd  some  advantages,  seemed 
quite  suitable  for  my  purpose.  A  smart  breeze  enabled  us  to 
run  for  Vathi,  where  I  staid  a  day,  and  then  sailed  in  an  open 


I 


122 


TUB   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   Or 


j 


f 


boat  for  Myconi,  which  I  found  the  very  place  that  had  been 
described  to  me,  and  of  which  I  was  in  quest. 

It  has  a  beautiful  Christian  appearance,  and  on  a  point  of 
land  close  to  the  town  stands  a  large  mansion,  erected  by 
Count  Orloff,  and  afterwards  the  residence  of  the  Russian 
consul-general,  as  a  part  of  the  machination  by  which  that 
Semiramis  of  the  north,  Catherine  II.,  thought  to  appropriate 
the  Archipelngo  to  Russia. 

Every  thing  about  Myconi  was  what  I  wanted,  and  accord- 
ingly I  set  myself  to  obtain  this  building,  in  which  I  suc- 
ceeded. The  document  granting  it  to  me  by  the  community  is 
still  in  my  possession. 

Having  matured  my  scheme,  I  returned  to  Malta  as  soon  as 
possible,  where  I  found  Messrs.  Struthers,  Kennedy,  and  Co., 
apprised  byMr.Kirkman  Finlay's  house,  in  Glasgow,  of  a  plan 
similar  to  mine,  which  had  been  suggested  by  one  of  their 
partners  resident  at  Vienna.  So  remarkable  a  coincidence 
tilled  me  with  great  astonishment,  and  the  house  at  Malta  hav- 
ing written  of  my  plan  to  Glasgow,  I  resolved  to  wait  the  re- 
ply and  not  to  return  to  England.  This  led  to  my  second  jour- 
ney in  Turkey,  of  which  I  have  given  some  account  in  my 
voyages  and  travels. 

As  some  months  would  elapse  before  answers  could  be 
received,  1  went  to  continue  my  inspections  of  the  coast  round 
the  Archipelago,  and  to  ascertain  the  safest  route  to  the  boun- 
daries of  Hungary.  In  this  undertaking  a  gentleman  accom- 
panied me  who  intended  to  proceed  as  far  as  Constantinople. 
He  had  no  other  object  in  the  journey  than  to  see  Turkey, 
and  I  did  not  deem  it  particularly  necessary  to  make  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  objects  of  my  solicitude.  Something,  how- 
ever, was  requisite  to  be  explained  to  account  for  the  nature 
of  the  inquiries  I  might  make,  as  they  were  now  no  longer 
respectiiig  those  objects  in  Greece  which  are  the  burthen  of 
the  traveller's  song ;  indeed  some  strange  conjectures  as  to 
the  objects  of  my  journey  began  to  be  surmised,  and  it  wag 
necessary  to  throw  a  tub  to  the  whale.  But  one  circumstance 
gave  me  serious  uneasiness,  and  shows  how  very  cautious  men 


JOHN    OALT. 


123 


in  authority  should  be  in  what  they  allow  to  escape  their 
unguarded  lips. 

Durin<r  the  time  I  was  at  Malta,  Mr.  Hobhouse  had  left 
Lord  Byron,  and  was  returning  to  England  with  Mr.  Adair, 
the  aiubiissador,  who  was  then  going  home ;  and  1  find  by  a 
note  that  I  made  on  the  subject  at  the  time,  dated  the  5th  of 
August  ISIO,  that  the  transaction  to  which  T  allude  was  com- 
municated to  me  by  Mr.  Hobhouse.  I  do  not  recollect  the 
particulars  very  distinctly,  but  the  circumstance  which  most 
molested  me  was  recorded  in  the  following  terms. 

"  Mr.  Hobhouse  mentioned  that  at  the  general's,  when  on- 
ly himself,  the  Governor,  Mr.  Adair,  and  the  Lady  Hesther 
Stanhope,  were  present,  a  conversation  had  arisen  relative  to 
me,  in  which  General  Oaks,  in  a  particular  manner,  inquired 
if  I  was  not  sent  out  on  some  private  political  mission ;  fortu- 
nately Mr.  Hobhouse  and  I  had  met  so  frequently  in  the  course 
of  my  travels,  that  he  was  able  to  give  a  proper  answer  to  this 
most  foolish  and  indecorous  question.  The  whole  effect  of  my 
conversation  this  evening  with  Mr.  IL  is,  that  a  political  mis- 
sion is  ascribed  to  me,  and  that  some  one  or  another  has  filled 
the  heads  both  of  the  governor  and  Mr.  Adair  with  inventions 
calculated  to  disturb  the  execution  of  my  commercial  design, 
and  to  render  my  journey  and  future  voyage  hazardous." 

My  reason  for  adverting  to  this  circumstance  here,  is  to 
point  out  the  danger  and  absurdity  of  persons  in  authority 
giving  heed  to  such  suggestions  or  surmises.  If  I  had  been 
engaged  on  a  private  political  mission,  viz.,  a  spy,  in  what 
would  have  been  the  objects  of  my  espionage  furthered  by 
talking  of  them ;  and  if  I  were  not  so  employed,  it  is  self-evi- 
dent that  it  was  exposing  me  to  great  peril,  especially  in  Tur- 
key, by  lending  countenance  to  such  a  supposition.  I  cer- 
tainly did  at  the  time  feel  both  indignant  and  annoyed  at  the 
imprudence  of  General  Oaks,  and  I  see  no  cause  yet  to  regard 
with  more  reverence  his  loquacity. 


Ii24 


TUB   AUTOOIOUBAPIIY   OF 


' 


CHAPTER  X.  »  . 

Land  at  Cerigo.    British   Soldiers  in  the  Blue  Devils.-^ 
Hospitalilies.   Land  among  the  Mainots.     Negotiations. 

We  landed  on  Cerigo,  the  ancient  Cytherea,  at  the  small  ma- 
ritime village  of  Avlemana,  where  we  found  an  English  garri- 
son, languishing  for  pastime.  The  officer  was  very  iiospitable 
to  us,  and  sent  a  soldier  to  procure  Samaritan  ponies  to  bear  us 
to  the  capital.  It  was  near  this  village  that  the  vessel  found- 
ered with  part  of  the  Athenian  marbles. 

As  I  have  given  an  account  of  the  island  in  my  voyages  and 
travels,  it  is  needless  to  repeat  it  here;  but  I  can  never  forget 
the  kindness  with  which  we  were  entertained  at  the  castle  by 
the  officers. 

Having  hired  a  boat  at  the  metropolitan  village  to  carry 
us  to  the  mainland,  we  proceeded,  afler  two  days'  stay.  It 
was  near  sunset  when  we  entered  the  harbour  of  Marathonisi, 
in  Maina,  on  the  main  land.  The  town  is  at  the  bottom  of  a 
steep  hill  and  has  orthodoxly  a  church  with  a  steeple  on  the 
side  next  to  the  sea,  which  we  had  of  course  great  pleasure  in 
beholding,  for  no  town  can  pretend  to  be  respectable  that 
wants  that  feature;  indeed,  without  a  steeple,  a  town  is  like 
a  face  without  a  nose. 

After  the  usual  jealous  interrogations  we  were  conducted  to 
the  castle,  where  we  were  first  led  into  a  kind  of  hall,  and  saw 
about  a  dozen  warriors,  with  women  and  children,  idling 
away  the  time.  From  the  hall  the  guards  conducted  us  up 
a  rude  staircase,  and  introduced  us  to  a  chieHain,  who  was 
sitting  with  several  other  officers.  The  commandant  was  not 
at  home,  but  the  chieflain  who  acted  for  him,  being  satisfied  of 
the  innocency  of  the  motives  which  had  induced  us  to  land  on 
their  unfrequented  coasts,  assured  us  that  we  were  in  perfect 
safety  during  our  abode  in  the  country. 


\ 


JDIIX   OALT. 


125 


When  our  oxamination  was  finished,  a  Greek  from  the 
interior  of  the  Moroo,  said  ho  would  be  very  glad  to  lend  us 
his  houso.  The  poor  man  had  been  a  merchant,  and  having 
incurred  a  fine  greater  than  all  his  means,  was  obliged  to 
take  refuge  in  Maralhonibi.  One  may  admire  a  hardy  and 
intrepid  race,  who,  like  the  Mainnts,  have  for  so  many  ages 
retained  their  national  ciiaractcrislics,  and  have  preserved 
their  freeddm  affainsst  the  Rornnn  and  the  Ottoman  powers, 
but  their  habitations  are  not  very  cleanly.* 

When  we  had  taken  some  refreshment,  we  went  out  to 
walk,  and  met  the  commandant,  attended  by  about  half  a  doz- 
en guardd.  He  was  handsomely  dressed  in  the  garb  of  the 
country,  his  long  hair  flowing  in  a  peculiar  style  on  his 
shoulders ;  altogether  his  personal  appearance  was  transcend- 
antly  elegant.  My  imagination,  which  from  the  scene  in  the 
castle  had  become  full  of  the  blue  and  white  enthusiasm  of 
Ossian,  was  surprised  with  so  distinct  a  vision  of  Oscar. — 
He  came  up  to  us  very  courteously,  and  taking  oflf  the  little 
red  cap  which  covered  his  hair,  and  which  he  wore  somewhat 
dofi[ed,  invited  us  to  a  shop-door,  and  treated  us  to  a  dram. 
There  was  so  much  dignity  about  himself,  and  so  much  reve- 
rence in  the  treatment  he  received  from  all  around  him,  that 
we  felt  ourselves  highly  honoured  guests.  Being  a  man  of 
few  words,  he  repeated  the  assurances  of  security,  and  seemed 
rather  hurt  when  we  asked  if  he  would  furnissh  us  with  guards 
to  Mystra.  "  The  Mainot8,"  said  he,  "  never  molest  travel- 
lers;" adding,  that  even  if  we  had  killed  the  governor  of  Ce- 
rigo,  no  Mainot  would  dare  to  give  us  up.  He  then  invited 
us  to  take  a  walk,  and  ordering  his  guards  to  stand  where 
they  were,  took  with  him  a  tail  awkward  humourous  looking 
fellow,  who  had  been  driven  fr<^m  his  castle  in  the  interior  by 
his  enemies. 

The  young  commandant  walked  on  in  silence  till  we  reached 


•  The  MHinots  ar«  by  some  snppos«^(1  to  be  desr^ndants  of  the  ancient  Lace- 
demonians. Tliey  were  in  ta<-.t  composed  of  riigitivea  from  all  parts  of 
Greece,  who  here  found  safety  from  'I'lirkir^h  iiiles.  Thoy  very  siooii  distin- 
guished themselves  in  liie  Greel(  revuluiiun  —  fi;iht!nK  bravely  under  their 
cajiitano$. — Edit. 

L2 


126 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP 


r     ! 


i  i 


the  middle  of  a  field,  at  some  distance  from  the  town ;  a  retired 
place,  where  he  suddenly  halted.  The  sun  was  down,  the 
twilight  obscure,  and  he  enquired  if  we  had  any  news. 

Perceiving  that  he  was  anxious  to  get  correct  information, 
we  told  him  frankly  und  faithfully  all  that  we  knew.  Our 
conversation  then  turned  upon  the  circumstances  of  Maina, 
and  I  was  amused  with  the  shrewd  sense  of  his  friend,  in 
reply  to  a  question  of  mine  respecting  the  martial  disposition 
of  the  Mainots.  "We  fight,"  said  he,  "just  like  the  French 
and  English,  and  cannot  tell  why." 

Next  morning  we  embarked  for  Bathi,  the  residence  of  An- 
ton Bey,  or  prince,  to  whom  I  had  letters  of  recommendation. 

It  was  about  eight  miles  off,  and  the  description  of  the  castle 
may  be  read  with  instruction  and  amusement. 

Having  landed,  and  ascended  the  steep  on  which  the  tower 
stands,  we  were  met  by  a  scout  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and 
conducted  by  him  into  the  interior  of  the  fortallice.  In  the 
gateway  a  number  of  retainers  were  slumbering.  The  court- 
yard was  dirty  with  rubbish  and  offal,  hogs  were  confined  in 
a  comer;  but  hens,  cocks,  and  ducks  fluttered  in  liberty. 

Ascending  into  the  keep  by  a  zigzag  stair  on  the  outside, 
contrived  for  defence,  the  landing  platform  being  moveable 
and  serving  for  a  draw-bridge,  the  door  opened  into  a  hall, 
where  a  number  of  long-haired  heroes  were  sitting  on  their 
"  hunkers,''^  they  rose  as  we  entered,  to  make  way  for  us  to 
ascend  the  stairs  which  led  to  the  apartment  of  the  prince.  The 
walls  of  the  presence  chamber  were  ornamented  with  arms, 
c1»aks,  and  petticoats,  on  pegs;  a  bed  occupied  the  furthest 
corner,  under  which  I  perceived  a  large  antique  coffer. — 
Along  the  sides  of  the  room  were  ottomans,  and  on  a  shelf 
I  saw  coffee-cups,  bottles,  and  other  articles  of  the  cupboard. 

Anton  Bey,  a  strong  hale  carle,  was  sitting,  and  beside 
him  an  old  priest;  he  appeared  to  be  about  sixty.  Opposite 
sat  his  lady,  with  large  rings  on  her  fingers,  and  as  the  song 
sings  "on  her  mid  finger  she  had  three."  On  her  one  side 
was  a  most  Leonides-looking  relation,  with  a  snuff-box  in  his 
hand,  and  on  the  other  sat  her  ghostly  comforter.    They  all 


JOHN  OALT. 


127 


\ 


rose  up  as  we  entered,  and  Hardyknute  received  us  with  a 
kind  of  honest  warmth,  that  military  frankness  which  gains 
at  once  confidence;  he  was  in  his  youth  a  courageous  pirate, 
I  beg  Lord  Byron's  pardon,  corsair  should  be  the  epithet 

When  we  had  sat  some  time  he  took  us  to  see  a  statue 
which  he  had  lately  found.  During  our  absence  a  repast  of 
broiled  meat  and  cheese  fried  with  eggs  was  prepared  for 
us,  and  there  was  somehow  a  heartiness  in  the  whole  visit 
that  is  remembered  with  pleasure. 

Anton  Bey  pressed  us  to  remain  two  or  three  days,  and  prom- 
ised us  the  pleasure  of  a  boar  hunt ;  but  neither  of  us  be- 
ing sportsmen  the  invitation  was  declined,  and  our  host  see- 
ing our  determination  to  return  next  morning,  gave  us  re- 
commendatory letters  to  several  of  the  'J'urkish  governors, 
his  friends.  He  also  sent  with  us  an  officer,  to  be  landed  at 
Mavroyuni,  to  procure  horses  for  us.  Mavroyuni  was  then  a 
neutral  state ;  but  Marathonisi,  with  the  heroic-looking  chief, 
was  belligerent,  and  at  war  with  our  friend  Anton  Bey.  It 
was  therefore  expedient  for  us  to  send  a  minister  to  the  con- 
ference, in  order  to  bring  the  answer,  the  Bathian  envoy  not 
having  passports  to  approach  Marathonisi. 


V- 


128 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


( 


! 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Tripolizza.  Athens.  Drink  of  the  Castalian  Spring.  Fa- 
tal  effect.  Nearly  Immortalized  in  ThermnpyltB,  Much 
Ado  about  Nothing,  ^lingers  in  Pompey^s  Army.  Lar- 
issa.  An   Qile.    Vale  of  Tempe.     Tliessaloiiica. 

Soon  after  we  had  landed,  our  servant,  whom  we  had  sent  to 
Mavroyuni,  returned,  and  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing we  were  knocked  up  by  a  band  of  six  robber  like  fellows, 
who  entered  our  apartment  without  apology  and  urged  us  to 
make  haste ;  we  then,  all  bustle,  proceeded  on  our  journey, 
of  which  I  have  given  an  account  in  my  Voyages  and  Travels. 

At  Tripolizza  I  was  at  home,  and  v/e  halted  there;  but  my 
friend.  Dr.  Teriano,  was  gone  with  his  Highness  to  the  wars. 
Having  rested  ourselves  for  the  night,  we  proceeded  on  our 
journey  to  Athens,  where  wo  remained  several  days,  till  my 
friend  had  satisfied  his  curiosity.  On  our  arrival  there,  I 
again  took  up  my  abode  in  the  Propaganda  monastery,  where 
I  found  my  former  apartments  taken  possession  of  by  Lord 
Byron.  His  Lordship,  however,  was  absent  on  some  excur- 
sion, but  we  obtained  other  rooms.  At  this  time  Athens  was 
much  visited  by  the  English,  and  the  Marquis  of  Sligo,  liady 
Hesther  Stmhopc,  and  Mr.  Bruce,  afterwards  of  La  Valeite 
celebrity,  \vern  there.  Soon  after  our  arrival.  Lady  Hesther 
Stanhope  called  on  horseback  at  the  monastery  gate  to  in- 
quire who  had  arrived.  While  we  remained  at  Athens 
Lord  Sligo  was  very  gratifying  in  his  attentions,  and  Lady 
Hosthcrdid  me  the  honour  of  inviting  me  with  my  friend 
to  dinner,  which  was  served  in  the  English  style,  but  there 
were  no  drinking  glasses  at  the  table;  she  had  only  two  or 
three  tumblers  borrowed  from  the  Marquis,  who  was  of  the 
party  ;  it  might  be  to  take  care  of  them,  as  it  is^said  pawn 
brokers  send  their  men  in  London  to  look  after  pledged  plate 
in  fashionable  houses. 


JOHN  GALT. 


129 


From  Attica  we  proceeded  to  Marathon,  and  thence  to  Ne- 
gropont,  then  to  Thebes,  from  that  to  Livadia,  thence  to 
Cheronea,  and  fin  illy  to  Parnassus;  for  all  which  I  entreat 
the  courteous  reader,  in  the  words  of  the  late  Abernethy,  to 
consult  "  my  book." 

While  we  remained  at  Delphos  I  drank  of  the  real  Castal- 
ian  spring,  but  the  inspiration  I  fear  was  not  very  efficacious  ; 
it  may  however  be  read  by  referring  to  Eben  Erskine. 

From  Delphi  we  went  on  to  Zeitun,  by  the  famous  pass  of 
Thermopylffi,  in  v/hich  we  met  with  an  adventure.  The  road 
from  the  height  into  the  pass  gradually  devolves  into  a  deep, 
wild,  and  rugged  glen,  in  the  bottom  of  which  is  a  fountain  and 
a  large  tree  of  ample  sliadc  with  a  seat  constructed  round  the 
trunk.  At  this  place  we  halted,  and  from  a  ruinous,  black- 
guard looking  house,  situated  on  the  cliff  above,  an  Albanian 
came  down  and  demanded  money  as  we  remounted.  VVe 
refused  his  demand,  and  were  in  consequence  nearly  immor- 
talized, for  my  companion,  conceiving  it  was  a  robber,  drew 
his  sword ;  my  arms,  as  they  always  unfortunately  were  hap- 
pened to  be  in  my  trunk.  The  soldier,  seeing  me  unarmed, 
let  go  Munro's  bridle,  and  flew  at  me  with  his  pistol,  which 
would  certainly  have  laid  me  with  Leonides,  had  not  Miner- 
va, as  Butler  says,  interposed  in  the  shape  of  rust ;  the  pistol 
missed  fire,  and  I  gallantly  rode  away  without  remembering 
the  distich, 

"  lie  tliat  figlits  ami  runs  away, 
Way  live  lo  figlil  am  tlitii  day  ;" 

calling  on  Munroe  to  follow,  which  he  did,  leaving  servants 
and  baggage,  "  with  all  the  evidences  of  complete  victory,  in 
the  haiids  of  the  enemy." 

We  never  halted  till  we  got  to  Mola,  on  the  Gulf  of  Zeitun, 
where  we  were  after  a  time  joined  by  our  janissary,  drago- 
man, &ic.  and  baggage,  just  when  I  was  disconsolately,  not 
without  a  little  lemon  in  the  beverage,  entertaining  my  com- 
panion. The  whole  affair,  as  it  turned  out  upon  investiga- 
tion, was  inconceivably  ridiculous.  The  blackguard  looking 
house  that  stood  so  ominously  on  the  hill  was,  in  plain  English, 
a  toll-house,  and  the  demand  for  money^  from  which  all  the 


130 


THE    Al'TOUIOGRAPHY   OF 


ado  arose,  was  the  toll,  about  Is.  9d.  sterling.  It  is,  however, 
as  Buonaparte  said,  but  a  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridic- 
ulous. 

In  the  evening  wc  arrived  at  Zeitun,  and  next  morning 
continued  our  journey  to  Phersela,  where  we  halted  for  the 
night.  Not  far  from  the  village  is  the  ever  celebrated  plain 
of  Pharsalia,  where  the  fate  of  the  Roman  world  and  the 
destinies  of  the  greatest  people  were  decided.  We  did  not, 
however,  visit  the  exact  spot  where  the  battle  was  fought, 
but  I  bought  from  a  peasant  a  bullet  from  a  sling  of  one  of 
the  warriors  in  Pompey's  army;  it  was  of  lead,  and  rather 
larger  than  an  almond,  to  which  it  bore  some  sort  of  resem- 
blance. I  gave  it  afterwards  to  the  Countess  of  Blessington, 
who  probably  has  it  still. 

From  Phersela  we  proceeded  to  Larissa,  a  considerable 
town  with  a  number  of  spires  or  minarets.  The  country 
around  is  well  cultivated,  but  I  have  already  described   it. 

The  city  stands  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Pcneus,  and  in  one 
particular  place,  where  calicoes  on  bleach  fields  were  spread 
around,  the  scene  moved  me  with  a  strange  sadness,  in  which, 
if  I  did  not  weep,  I  shed  the  following  verses: 

Vi.r  TO  THE  RIVER  PENEUS.  / 

':*'.,  Peneiis!  asdii  thy  ereen  side  , 

'  .        A  peiisivR  hoTir  I  cliniice  to  spond,     ■' 

VVhcrf,  o'or  thy  pailv  flowing  tide  "  ^ 

Tile  Itepclie.s  liovv  and  osiers  bend ; 
And  Haw,  bciienrli  the  varied  shade, 

Tlic  ruminating  herds  recline, 
And  lengths  of  woven  thrifts  display'd 

Along  thy  rural  margin  sliine ; 
Methoiight  that  youth  was  still  my  own 
•         As  when  I  strayed  by  Irvine's  stream, 
And  all  the  cares  i  since  have  known 
Thephantonisof  a  troubled  dream.  ' 

'     f  Ah!  never  shall  I  know  again  n; 

,,;  Those  simple  hopes  of  blithesome  hue,  ^        ■      % 

The  playmates  gay  of  fancy's  train, 
Such  as  by  Irvine's  stream  I  knew. 


•»  ^i:'': 


At  Larissa  we  were  detained  some  time,  and  the  day  was 
far  advanced  when  we  left  that  Christain  looking  place. — 


JOHN  OALT. 


131 


About  sunset  we  entered  the  song-renowned  Vale  of  Tempe, 
and  had  a  delightful  ride  by  moonlight  to  the  village  of  Baba, 
where  we  slept  N^ext  morning  we  proceeded  down  the  val- 
ley, and  crossing  the  Gulf  of  Salonica,  arrived  in  due  time  at 
the  famous  city  of  Thessalonica,  for  which  it  is  to  be  hoped 
the  reader  will  consult  with  advantage  the  Epistles  of  the 
Apostle  Paul. 

It  was  a  part  of  my  project  to  see  this  place  and  to  make 
some  arrangements ;  but  I  saw  without  disclosing  my  design, 
it  could  be  rendered  completely  subservient  to  my  purpose ; 
and  accordingly,  though  we  remained  days  there,  we  spent 
them  in  gratifying  our  curiosity  with  the  different  objects  of 
antiquity  in  and  about  the  city. 


132 


THE  AUTOBIOORAPUT   OF 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Constantinople.  Excursion  to  jVicomedia.  Stay  with  a 
Turkish  Gentleman*  Ladies  of  the  Harem.  A  Journey. 
A  Bishop. 

After  leaving  Salonica,  we  proceeded  post  haste  towards 
Constantinople,  riding  every  day  with  almost  insufferable  con- 
stancy; a  pleasant  enough  journey,  though  not  distinguish- 
ed by  any  adventure  worth  relating.  There  was,  however, 
in  the  course  of  it  a  very  diverting  occurrence,  much  more 
60  than  the  affair  in  the  Pass  of  Thermopylae,  but  as  Mr. 
Munroe  is  now  dead,  the  particulars  cannot  be  related. 

At  Constantinople  Mr.  Munroe  lefl  me,  and  I  was  there 
joined  by  Mr.  S.  from  Malta,  anxious  to  co-operate  in  the  de- 
sign to  violate  the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees. 

Having  remained  some  time  at  Constantinople  seeing  the 
lions,  Mr.  S.  and  I  proceeded  to  Nicomedia,  from  which  we 
crossed  to  the  northern  limb  of  Asia  Minor  to  Kirpi,  on  the 
shores  of  the  Black  Sea. 

The  country  being  little  frequented  we  were  very  hospi- 
tably entertained  by  the  most  considerable  inhabitants  in  point 
of  rank  in  that  region.  One  nigiit  we  passed  in  the  coun- 
try residence  of  a  Turk,  who  might  be  called  a  nobleman. 
The  establishment  was  numerous,  and  spcndid.  Indeed,  our 
entertainment  deserves  particular  commemoration,  as  the  la- 
dies of  the  harem  sent  us  out  an  elegant  supper  of  many 
dishes,  and  did  us  the  honour  to  inquire  if  we  had  any  punch 
and  to  let  them  taste  it. 

The  excursion  as  it  may  be  called,  though  in  its  incidents 
adventurous,  was  in  no  respect  contributory,  as  we  had  ho- 
ped, to  the  plan  of  transmitting  British  goods  into  the  inter- 
dicted continent,  and  we  returned  with  a  sense  of  disappoint- 
ment, though  it  proved  the  advantages  of  my  scheme.  It  was, 


JOHN  OALT. 


133 


therefore,  arranged  to  send  about  a  hundred  bales  of  goods 
to  Widdin,  which  I  undertook  to  precede  at  some  distance 
and  to  see  deposited  there  till  they  could  be  transmitted  into, 
H  ungary,  by  the  way  of  Orsova.  I  acknowledge  that  the 
hardships  and  dangers  of  the  journey  were  in  prospect  very 
daunting,  for  it  lay  through  a  region  not  much  known,  and 
across  "  mountains  high,  and  deserts  idle,"  moreover  it  was 
the  winter,  and  the  Russians  at  war  with  the  Turks,  infest- 
ed the  country,  as  reported  on  the  southern  shores  of  the 
Danube.  Nevertheless,  as  in  those  days  I  had  a  physical  en- 
joyment in  enterpri;  on  the  4th  of  January  I  left  Constan- 
tinople. The  particulars  of  the  journey  are  related  with  be- 
coming modesty  in  *'  my  book." 

At  Adrianople  I  remained  several  days,  in  order  to  arrange 
matters  connected  with  the  serious  object  of  my  thoughts,  and 
having  been  most  kindly  treated  by  the  French  families  resi- 
dent in  that  city  with  galas  and  dances,  I  proceeded  to  Philip- 
pi,  so  famed  as  the  death  place  of  Brutus,  making  as  few  halts 
as  possible,  till  I  got  to  Sophia.  There  I  met  my  friend, 
Vilhi  Pacha^s  physician,  for  it  was  then  his  highness*  head- 
quarters. 

I  had  come  from  the  capital  to  Adrianople  with  hired  hor. 
ses,  but  as  I  approached  the  anarchy  or  army,  I  was  per- 
suaded  to  avail  myself  of  my  firman  and  post  orders,  accord- 
ingly I  arrived  at  Sophia  with  public  steeds,  and  was  lodged 
therewith  Theophanes,  the  bishop ;  a  man  of  whose  learning 
and  genius  the  highest  report  prevailed  at  haunted  Philippi.  or 
as  it  is  called  Philipopili.  He  was  considered  for  his  learn- 
ing and  the  liberality  of  his  sentnnents,  then  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  members  of  the  Greek  hierarchy,  and  was  born 
in  Smyrna,  on  the  2nd  of  May,  my  birth-day,  in  1751,  and  in 
1776  he  passed  into  Christendom,  visiting  in  the  course  of 
his  travels  the  most  celebrated  cities.  His  Latin  and  Greek 
were  pure  and  classical,  he  wrote  French  with  elegance,  and 
read  Italian  and  German,  nor  was  he  unacquainted  with  the 
English  language  besides  knowing  the  different  dialects  of 
the  Ottoman  subjects.    His  poetry  was  much  admired  and 

M 


.1 


III 


134 


THB  AinOBIOOBAPH?  Of 


i 


he  had  written  a  treatise  in  literary  Greek,  on  the  system  of 
Occellos,  hut  in  what  manner  he  refuted  the  argument   for 
the  eternity  of  the  world,  I  cannot  pretend  to  say. 

In  his  person  he  was  a  short,  Doctor  Slop  like  Ggure,  and 
in  his  temper,  remarkably  testy,  in  the  spurts  of  which,  he, 
however,  was  more  diverting  than  disagreeable.  Under  the 
cushions  of  a  sofa  on  which  he  sat  and  slept,  were  struck  in- 
numerable scraps  of  paper,  the  memoranda  of  twenty  years. 
I  requested  him  to  show  me  some  of  his  verses,  when  put- 
ting his  hand  beneath  the  cushion  at  his  back,  he  pulled  out 
an  ancient,  sullied  manuscript,  containing  the  drafl  of  a  son- 
net and  gave  it  to  me :  it  was  addressed  to  the  princess  Zeph- 
eria,  of  the  Phanar. 

When  I  entered  his  room,  I  found  on  his  table  a  volume 
of  the  new  Eloise,  with  one  of  a  new  French  translation  of 
Clarissa  Harlowe,  two  fit  parlour  companions  for  a  bishop. — 
To  meet  with  the  doctor  and  him,  accomplished  literary  char- 
acters, at  the  head-quarters  of  a  Turkish  army,  was  an  un- 
expected miracle.  In  the  evening  we  played  at  trenta  una, 
which  brought  out  the  sparks  of  his  temper  with  the  most  amu- 
smg  brilliancy. 


,   \ 


JOUN   OALT. 


185 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Vilhi  Pasha.    A    Vizier's  Camp.    Fallacy  of  Continental 
Armies.      Incapability  of  the  Ottomans  for  War. 

Next  mornings  I  paid  a  visit  to  Vilhi  Pasha,  to  entreat  his 
protection  for  myself  and  the  caravan  behind  me;  and  it 
can  do  harm  to  him  now  to  speak  freely. 

His  army  in  Sophia  consisted,  as  it  was  said,  of  fifteen 
thousand  men,  and  the  troops  cantoned  in  the  neighbouring^ 
towns  amounted  to  not  less  than  fifty  thousand.  I  quote  the 
numbers  as  they  were  reported  to  me,  but  I  think  myMtfi 
from  what  was  seen,  that  the  multitude  certainly  did  not  ex- 
ceed the  half  of  that  number.  I  have  ever  since  been  a  great 
sceptic  in  the  reported  amount  of  continental  armies.  It  weald 
be  hazardous  to  contradict  history  with  respect  to  the  vast 
forces  of  the  Russians  or  Austrians,  which  have  from  time  to 
time  been  stated  as  in  the  field,  to  .    .  .  , 

"  Frighten  our  women,  our  children,  and  beaux ;"     • 

but  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  disbelieve  the  evidence  of  my 
senses. 

At  Adrianople  I  was  informed,  from  the  best  authority! 
that  tiie  Grand  Vizier's  great  army  was  reduced  to  a  little 
more  than  the  number  of  his  own  household  ;  and  I  was  as- 
sured, not  only  here,  but  along  the  whole  track  of  my  jour- 
ney from  Selivria,  that  notwithstanding  reports  of  the  con- 
trary, the  Turks  in  no  part  of  the  preceding  campaign  had 
near  two  hundred  thousand  men  in  the  field,  comprehending 
all  within  the  scope  of  the  war  from  Widdin  to  Varna.  Reck- 
oning by  banerets  they  had  a  much  greater  number,  for  each 
baneret  is  supposed  to  be  accompanied  with  a  hundred  and 
twenty  men,  and  the  strength  of  the  force  is  reported  to  the 
Sultan  by  the  number  of  banerets.     Vilhi  Pasha  appointed 


■sr^-*Mf^- 


136 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


one  of  these  squadrons  of  cavalry  to  accompany  me  across 
Che  Balkan,  one  of  the  passes  of  Mount  Hcemus,  and  it  amoun- 
ted to  no  more  than  eighteen  horsemen,  with  an  officer  carry* 
ing  a  pennon. 

The  idea  6f  the  head-quarters  of  the  vizier  had  stood  in  my 
mind  with  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war. — 
I  had  fancied  to  hear  the  continual  clashing  of  cymbals,  the 
clangor  of  trumpets  the  neighing  of  chargers,  to  see  the  Idle 
state  of  banners  mocking  the  air,  and  an  innumerable  throng 
of  gorgeous  Agas;  and  on  approaching  Sophia,  actually  be- 
gan to  patch  up  in  my  mind  the  visit  of  Satan  to  chaos,  in  or- 
der that  I  might  have  an  apt  quotation  from  Milton  ready 
when  I  came  to  describe  so  magnificent  a  spectacle  as  the 
camp.  But  m>  journey  was  ordained  to  chasten  me  with  dis- 
appointments. I  saw  only  a  multitude  of  Albanians,  wild  as 
the  goAls  on  their  native  mountains;  nor  were  the  pistols 
in  their  belts  more  formidable  weapons  than  the  horns  on 
the  headsof  the  companions  of  their  youth.  Their  dress  was 
ragged  and  dirty ;  the  clouts  round  their  brows,  as  they  walked 
grinning  against  ihe  winter's  wind,  made  their  appearance 
more  like  bedlamites  than  soldiers.  Every  thing  about  them 
indicated  the  filth  and  misery  of  prisoners  rather  than  the 
pomp  and  insolence  of  soldiers;  but  it  is  thus  that  the  circum- 
stances of  this  impaired  and  disordered  empire  are  falsely  re- 
presented. 

While  at  Sophia,  a  grand  salute  was  fired  from  five  help- 
less field-pieces  of  which  his  highness's  park  of  artillery  con- 
sisted, in  honour  of  a  great  victory  obtained  over  the  Rus- 
sians near  the  confines  of  Persia,  and  it  was  affirmed,  and, 
alas !  credited,  that  three  thousand  heads  of  the  vanquished 
were  brought  to  Constantinople.  How  Vilhi  Pasha  could  give 
countenance  to  a  tale  of  such  cargoes  of  carnage,  and  attach 
to  it  the  importance  of  a  fact,  astonished  me  as  much  as  if  I 
had  been  the  historian  of  th6  Seven  Years'  War  in  Germany. 

When  I  saw  Vilhi  Pasha  in  the  Morea,  he  appeared  face- 
tious, shrewd,  and  greatly  superior  in  the  general  cast  of  his 
endowments,  not  only  to  any  idea  I  had  formed  of  Turks  io- 


JOHN  OkVT. 


137 


general,  but  in  respect  to  a  kind  of  dexterous  mode  of  extract" 
ing  opinions,  to  most  men  I  had  ever  met  with.  At  Sophia 
he  was  considerably  altered,  but  he  still  retained  his  disposition 
to  jocularity.  The  colour  of  his  mind,  however,  was  become 
graver,  now  and  then  serious,  and  directly  inquisitive,  which, 
contrasted  with  his  natural  gaiety,  denoted  anxiety  and  fear. 
He  kept  mc  with  him  above  an  hour;  and  though  his  con- 
versation was  occasionally  enlivened  with  sly  questions  about 
the  different  English  travellers  who  had  visited  Tripolizza,  he 
oflen  reverted  with  address  to  the  state  of  Turkey  in  our  esti- 
mation. He  evidently  seemed  to  think  that  the  empire  was 
not  capable  of  effectually  prosecuting  the  war:  nothing  es- 
caped from  him  which  disi,inctly  conveyed  that  opinion,  but 
his  manner,  and  the  tendency  of  all  his  questions,  from  memo- 
randa formed  at  the  time,  warrant  me  in  ascribing  it  to  him. 
He  was  unquestionably  a  man  of  great  natural  talent,  but  his 
head  was  more  political  than  military,  and  it  is  no  slight  proof 
of  the  absurdity  of  the  system  of  the  Ottomans  than,  that  he, 
so  inexperienced,  should  have  been  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  main  body  of  the  army,  for  whatever  might  have  been 
the  justness  of  his  notions  as  to  the  mode  of  conducting  war, 
he  wanted  entirely  that  habitual  veadiness  in  comprehending 
the  details  of  field  operations  so  essential  to  success. 


*' . . 


M2 


;  .  li  io      - .  > 


,^- 


t'Ui,.,*- 


138 


THE   AVTOBIOORAPIIY  OF 


. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

An  Adventure. — Rejlections. 

After  leaving  Sophia,  the  road  for  throe  hours  lay  acroM 
the  spacious  plain  on  which  the  town  is  situated ;  but  as  1 
have  recjordod  in  "  my  book"  the  particulars  of  the  journey 
across  Mount  Hcemue,  I  may  be  permitted  to  omit  the  details 
here ;  one  adventure,  however,  has  always  exceedingly  amus- 
ed me  in  the  recollection. 

When  we  had  reached  the  lower  hills,  on  the  northern  side 
of  the  mountains,  we  met  a  band  of  armed  men,  the  chief  of 
wliora  commanded  us  to  alight.  He  was  the  governor  of 
Belkofsa  with  his  guards,  going  to  inspect  a  post  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. We  obeyed;  and  Vil hi  Pasha's  Tartar  sent  with 
me,  untied  his  portmanteau,  and  presented  him  with  a  ring 
from  hia  master,  and  a  letter  recommending  me  to  his  pro- 
lection.  Seating  himself  on  the  ground,  and  putting  the 
ring  on  his  little  finger,  he  began  to  read  the  letter,  when  a 
blast  of  wind  came  roaring  through  the  wood?,  shaking  the 
wintry  weight  from  the  trees,  and  covering  us  all  so  profusely 
that  I  began  to  fear  we  were  involved  in  the  beard  of  an 
avalanciie  ;  he  however,  disencumbered  himself  from  his  pel- 
isse of  snow,  and  taking  his  inkstand  from  his  girdle,  wrote  to 
his  second  in  command  to  furnish  me  with  guards  as  far  aa 
Kaaralom,  to  the  commandant  of  which  the  Tartar  had  anoth- 
er ring  and  a  letter.  He  then  mounted,  and  we  pursued  our 
several  ways 

The  Turkish  phrases  of  compliment  are  the  same  on  all  oc- 
casions, as  much  so  as  the  ♦  how  d'ye  do's'  of  the  English ;  but 
they  are  a  little  more  formal,  and  the  second  inquiry  to  a 
stranger  is  a  hope  that  he  is  comfortable. — His  Excellency 
of  Belkofsa  was  too  polite  a  personage  to  omit  this,  so,  strok- 
ing his  beard  as  he  was  sitting  in  the  snow  as  high  as  his  bead 


JOHN  OALT. 


130 


he  inquired  if  I  was  comfortable :  I  waf  standing,  and  the 
snow  was  up  to  my  middle. 

AAer  this  incident  nothing  particular  occurred  till  we 
reached  Widdin;  but  if  the  courteous  reader  feels  the  slight- 
est  anxiety  to  be  acquainted  with  what  occurred,  I  refer  him  to 
"my  book,"  which,  like  many  other  good  things  existing  in 
this  world,  is  too  much  neglected.  It  may,  however,  be  re- 
marked, that,  saving  the  nuisance  of  guards  and  the  strict 
scrutiny  of  the  pickets,  it  was  better  to  travel  through  the  seat 
of  war  than  in  more  lonely  regions,  especially  when  it  was 
known  I  was  a  British  subject. 

The  utmost  readiness  to  oblige  was  unifonniy  Miown  in 
courtesies  towards  me.  In  oiie  pin..;  ?  k  U  inJ,  or  ro.jv.nent  wo 
would  call  it,  supposed  to  be  of  a  Ujousu'i'i  aian,  were  halted, 
and  the  commander  alighted  from  hk  horss,  ordered  me  to 
be  seived  with  a  pipe  and  reyaied  vith  rot^bj.  He  wa?  f^ 
remarkably  fine  old  man,  and  twoyoK'ths  -vho  were  n/s^lj  h'na 
seemed  to  be  his  sons.  Thev  had  zomf.  f^jwi  Ash.  nm\  were 
on  their  way  home.  I  may  ha  rnistakar ,  but  f\|'/,nienc/ 
leads  me  to  believe  that  it  is  the  bnst  p  acy  .Iwayj  U'  uo 
cept  offered  civilities.  In  the  rejrctior!  of  tavours  it  in  ditfi- 
cult  not  to  be  rude,  where  c  mutual  laaguajqr«  tioes  ii:A  fiirn»sh 
the  means  of  softening  a  refusal. 


•'-■•-t 


140 


THE  AITTOBIOORAPRT  Of 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Widdin.    Inquiries  concerning  me. — Pasha's  dragoman.^- 
Visit  to  the  pasha.  Intrigues.    Visit  to  the  Russian  camp. 

Although  the  few  days  I  stayed  at  Widdin  were  among  the 
most  disagreeable  of  my  life,  yet  they  are  somehow  pleasant 
to  recollect ;  and  I  cannot  give  a  better  account  of  my  ad- 
ventures there,  than  by  transcribing  the  notes  made  at  the 
time. 

The  name  of  Wddin  was  left  out  in  my  iirman,  and  the 
omission,  as  it  was  pretended,  could  not  be  supplied.  I  think 
it  was  done  purposely,  the  fortress  being  then  invested  by  the 
Russians;  but  Widdin  was  an  essential  point  to  which  my 
journey  was  directed,  and  to  obviate  the  effects  of  the  omission 
before  reaching  the  gate,  I  sent  forward  the  Tartar  which 
Vilhi  Pasha  sent  with  the  escort.  This  obtained  for  me  leave 
to  enter,  and  I  reached  unmolested  the  house  inhabited  by  the 
archbishop,  to  whom  I  had  letters  of  particular  recommenda- 
tion. His  palace  was  at  the  time  used  as  barracks  by  the 
garrison,  and  he  could  not  accommodate  me  with  lodgings, 
but  the  gates  of  the  town  being  shut  for  the  night  soon  after  I 
entered,  obliged  me  to  remain  with  him. 

In  the  course  of  a  short  time  the  town-major,  as  we  would 
call  him,  had  reported  my  arrival  to  the  Pasha,  and  the  arch- 
bishop was  immediately  ordered  to  the  seraglio  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  his  guest.  -  ,  ■  ,.  v  *?  k 

The  Turk  who  brought  the  mandate,  having  dclvered  it, 
spread  his  mantle  on  the  floor  and  said  his  prayers. 

While  his  grace  was  absent,  the  pasha's  dragoman  was  in 
the  room,  and  we  entered  into  conversation.  He  recommend- 
ed himself  in  the  warmest  manner,  and  a  Greek,  of  whos* 
mal-practices  I  was  not  uninformed. — This  interpreter  had 


JOHN  a  ALT. 


141 


been  brought  up  at  the  petty  court  of  Wallachia,  and  had  an 
innate  appetite  for  political  intrigue.  He  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  vendible  qualities  of  several  noted  personages  at 
Constantinople,  and  I  had  some  reason  to  believe  him. 

He  set  me  down  as  a  spy.  Had  I  worn  a  uniform  I  would 
not  have  been  surprised;  but  I  had  nothing  more  bloody  looking 
about  me  than  a  scarlet  waistcoat.  The  artflil  character  of 
the  man's  own  mind,  and  the  reputation  of  his  friend,  con- 
vinced  me  that  I  should  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  Acute 
and  suspicious,  he  saw  that  his  offer  of  services  was  mentally 
declined. 

What  passed  between  the  archbishop  and  the  pasha  can  on- 
ly be  conjectured ;  but  I  was  advised  to  go  early  in  the  morn- 
ing and  pay  my  respects  to  his  highness. 

I  was  introduced  *to  the  minotaur  by  a  shrewd  old  man, 
his  secretary,  who  led  me  through  many  labyrinthical  spart* 
mcnts  to  where  sat 

"  Semi  viriiinque  bovem  semi  bovemque  virum," 
holding  a  curiously  carved  woodi  n  baton  in  his  paw. 

When  the  Turk  is  at  his  ease,  he  sits,  as  all  the  world 
knows,  cross-legged  ;  but  when  exciteJ,  he  draws  his  knees 
together,  and  bends  forward  with  an  eager  countenance.  Into 
this  posture  Mulu  Pasha  threw  himself  when  I  entered  the 
room — a  tall  backed,  gilded  chair  was  ready  for  me,  covered 
with  crimson,  somewhat  resembling  the  Hanoverian  chaiTS 
of  silver  some  time  ago  at  Windsor  castle. 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  it  appeared  that  the  inter- 
preter had  been  with  the  pasha.  I  had  mine  with  me;  for  it 
is  the  etiquette  on  such  occasions  for  the  stranger  to  bring 
his  own  dragoman.  My  promotion  during  the  night  had 
been  more  rapid  than  is  usual  in  his  majesty's  service,  being 
now  regarded  as  a  general,  and  so  styled,  my  red  waistcoat 
testifying  to  the  fact. 

In  his  manners,  I  found  the  pasha  a  rough  Turk,  but  not 
without  some  generous  qualities;  and  the  visit  passed  off 
very  civilly. 


142 


THE  AVTOBIOORAPHT   OF 


The  town  was  so  full  of  soldiers,  that  he  could  not  assign 
me  lodgings  in  any  private  house ;  but  he  ordered  an  apart- 
ment in  one  of  the  khans  to  be  carpeted  for  me. 

In  the  meantime  the  interpreter  and  the  Greek,  to  whom  I 
have  alluded  and  whom  T  must  consider  as  the  invisible  ma- 
chinery of  the  epic  of  which  I  was  the  hero,  had  put  their 
heads  tofjether  and  were  at  work. 

Towards  evening  I  received  an  intimation  by  my  janissary 
that  it  was  expected  I  would  not  stay  more  than  three  days  in 
the  town  nor  walk  about  the  fortifications.  This  intelligence 
was  not  agreeable ;  but  as  I  was  writing  at  the  time,  it  did 
not  much  trouble  me.  Before  the  gates  were  shut  for  the 
night  a  message,  however,  came  from  the  Tartar  Aga  of  the 
garrison,  to  inform  Vilhi  Pasha's  Tartar,  that  horses  were 
ready,  and  that  he  must  depart  immediately. 

Tw6  days  passed  without  any  occurence,  and  a  heavy  fall 
of  snow  prevented  me  from  having  any  desire  to  walk  abroad. 
On  the  third  day  the  weather  cleared,  when  my  janissary, 
who  happened  to  be  in  the  street,  came  in  with  great  exulta- 
tion, and  called  me  to  see  the  pasha  in  a  scarlet  chariot, 
with  about  two  hundred  guards  around,  going  to  the  custom- 
house, little  thinking  that  this  magnificent  array  was  on  our 
account.  In  the  course  of  a  few  minutes  after  came  a  mess- 
senger,  with  a  silver  rod  in  his  hand,  and  ordered  the  janissa- 
ry to  the  pasha.  The  janissary  went  with  fear  and  trembling, 
and  returned  with  a  tear  in  his  eye,  along  with  the  mes- 
senger, sagaciously  to  inquire  if  I  was  not  a  Russian  spy; 
because,  if  I  were,  the  pasha  had  threatened  to  put  his  head 
in  his  hand,  like  a  melon,  for  bringing  me  into  the  fortress. 
This  was  accompanied  with  an  order  for  my  dragoman  to  at- 
tend examination  ;  but  the  plot  had  now  thickened  to  such  a 
degree,  that  I  thought  it  more  accordant  to  the  best  rules  of 
the  drama  to  hasten  the  catastrophe,  and  therefore  refused  to 
allow  him.  This  answer  brought  the  pasha's  interpreter 
with  a  consequential  aspect;  I  recapitulated  to  him,  remem- 
bering the  impression  he  had  made  upon  me,  ail  the  circum- 
Btances  of  the  extraordinary  coarse  of  proceeding  adopted  to- 


^ 


jrOHN  OALT. 


143 


wards  me,  affirming  that  I  had  come  on  no  other  business  than 
what  was  already  known  to  the  pasha.  He  went  away  and 
returned  with  an  inquiry  to  account  for  the  omission  of  Wid' 
din  in  my  firman.  With  the  natural  answer,  he  departed ; 
but  almost  immediatel}  Cuvne  back,  with  a  demand  for  my 
papers.  To  this  it  was  iiccessary  to  put  on  a  bold  face ;  1 
therefore  replied  to  the  following  effect. 

"  My  papers  consist  wholly  of  private  letters  and  pasEports, 
which  I  will  certainly  not  deliver  to  you,  nor  to  any  one  else. 
How  do  I  know  that  all  t'lese  impertinent  messages  really 
come  from  the  pasha  1  but  if  they  do,  tell  his  highness  that 
I  will  attend  on  himself  whenever  he  is  pleased  to  call  me,  and 
satisfy  him  that  1  am  a  British  subject;  that  in  the  meantime 
as  such  I  demand  his  protection  for  my  person  and  property. 
If  there  be  any  complaint  against  me  tell  me  what  it  is,  but  do 
not  endeavour  to  pick  matter  of  suspicion  out  of  my  attend- 
ants. Finally,  and  once  for  all,  say  thai  I  feel  myself  in  the 
power  of  his  highness,  but  at  his  peril  let  him  do  me  any  in- 
jury." 

Historical  truth  obliges  me  to  confess  that  there  was  very 
little  heroism  in  this  magnanimous  defiance.  I  knew  that 
however  fairly  and  clearly  Greek  interpreters  may  reflect  the 
acquiescences  of  peace  and  ceremony,  they  were  noncon- 
ducters  of  indignation. — The  fellow  to  whom  I  was  speak- 
ing would  as  soon  have  ventured  to  have  tugged  the  pasha 
by  his  black,  bushy  beard,  as  to  have  repeated  a  moiety  of 
what  I  said,  and  my  answer  closed  the  affair.  The  pasha 
sent  back  to  say,  that  as  he  could  neither  read  nor  write,  he 
wished  me  to  wait  the  next  day  with  my  papers  on  his  secreta- 
ry, which  I  did,  and  it  is  but  justice  to  add,  that  I  had  no  fur- 
the  reason  to  complain  during  the  remainder  of  my  stay,  and 
I  was  informed  that  as  many  horses  as  I  chose,  to  make  what 
excursions  I  thought  proper,  were  at  my  command. 

During  this  last  visit  of  the  interpreter,  my  stupid  janissa- 
ry, understanding  that  the  pasha  was  wanting  my  papers,  and 
he  happening  to  have  a  number  of  packets  and  trumpery  in  his 
saddlebags,   must,  forsooth,  brmg  his  also  out,  in  order  to 


144 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


strengthen  the  affirmations  of  our  innocence.  Among  them 
to  my  indescribable  horror,  w^fi  a  large  parcel  for  Prince  Ka- 
minsky,  the  Russian  commnnder.  I  bad  but  one  way  to  take 
on  this  frightful  disovery,  which  iMu,  to  order  him,  with  the 
interpreter,  instantly  with  it  to  the  j||i||u  The  three  or  four 
minutes  of  his  absence  were  truly  exquisite ;  however,  he 
soon  returned  with  a  blithe  countenance,  saying,  that  the  * 
pasha  was  in  correspondence  with  the  Russian  general,  and 
would  transmit  the  packet  without  delay  across  the  river  to 
the  officer  commanding  there,  and  send  the  receipt  when  the 
boat  returned,  which  was  faithfully  performed. 

But  in  opening  my  packets,!  found  a  letter  huddled  in  among 
them  to  the  French  minister  at  Vienna.  I  was  not  long  decid- 
ing what  to  do  with  it,  and  I  put  it  in  the  lire.  Mr.  Canning 
(now  Sir  Stratford)  was  made  acquainted  with  the  .transac- 
tion, and  thought,  as  I  had  been  so  treated,  x  should  have 
given  up  the  letter  to  him. 

-  An  opportunity  occurred  soon  after  this  fracas,  to  send  to  Orso- 
va,  where  I  expected  a  gentleman  from  Vienna  to  meet  me ; 
but  when  the  messenger  returned,  I  was  informed  he  did  not 
deem  it  prudent  to  come.  J  will  not,  however,  trouble  the 
reader  with  my  extreme  disappointment  at  finding  my  plans 
thus  frustrated,  myself  without  money,  and  a  large  caravan  of 
valuable  merchandise  behind  me.  I  actually  shed  tears  of 
rage  and  vexation. 

While  my  letters,  were  on  the  road  to  Orsova  I  walked 
about  freely  and  with  the  pasha's  permission  induced  a  boat- 
man to  take  me  across  the  Danube  to  see  the  Russian  camp. 
The  stream  was  full  of  small  pieces  of  ice  crashing  and  tumb- 
ling, but  as  1  have  since  made  an  excursion  in  similar  circum- 
stances across  the  vast  St  Lawrence,  I  shall  say  no  more  about 
it  here.  The  Russian  commander  received  me  very  politely, 
and  conducted  me  to  his  hut  under  ground,  in  which  there 
was  a  fire  and  a  pane  of  glass  for  a  window ;  he  made  coffee 
for  me,  and  was  unquestionably  exceedingly  courteous  and 
kind.  He  was  a  young  man,  not  much  older  than  myself, 
gienteelly  dressed,  with  an  air  of  aristocracy.    After  sitting 


iota   GALT. 


145 


;  them 
ce  Ka- 
totake 
rith  the 
or  four 
ver,  he 
hat  the 
iral,  and 
river  to 
trhen  the 

in  among 
ig  decid- 
Canning 
I  ^tranaac- 
uld  have 


some  time  with  him  I  went  to  visit  the  camp,  which  consisted 
chiefly  of  cavalry ;  the  men  were  well  dressed,  and  the  horses 
very  good,  fastened  each  to  a  spear  stuck  upright  in  the 
ground;  but  the  force  was  quite  inconsiderable  compared  to 
what  I  expected  to  89%  <p  served  however  to  convince  me 
of  the  awful  exaggertttoi  which  attends  all  the  military  phe- 
nomena of  the  continent  It  did  not  I  am  sure  amount  to 
many  hundred  men,  and  Widdin  at  the  time  contained,  with 
the  inhabitants,  it  was  said,  no  less  than  fifly  thousand.  Hav- 
ing expressed  my  sense  of  the  Russian  commander's  polite- 
ness, I  returned  across  the  Danube,  where  I  found  the  bless- 
ed tidings  from  Orsova  had  arrived. 


idtoOrso- 
beetme; 
le  did  not 
ouble  the 
my  plans 
caravan  of 
tears  of 


M' 


^,. 


walked 
eda  boat- 
sian  camp, 
and  tumb- 
ar  circum- 
more  about 
y  politely, 
hich  there 
lade  coffee 
rteotts  and 
m  myself, 
;er  sitting 


146 


THE  AVTOBIOORAPHr  OP 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  romantic  adventure.  Leave  Widdin,  Vexation  in  a  cot-' 
tage.  The  old  bishop  of  Sophia.  A  mysterious  adven- 
ture.  Return  to  Christendom.  Missolonghi.  Industry  in 
the  Lazaretto  of  Messina. 

In  the  evening,  after  my  return  from  the  Russian  camp,  I  had 
a  numberof  visitors,  and  among  others  an  aged  Turk,  of  the 
finest  physiognomy  I  ever  beheld.  He  would  have  been  beau- 
tiful in  any  picture  by  RafFaelle.  In  the  course  of  conversation 
he  mentioned  that  he  was  taken,  when  a  very  little  boy^ 
from  Belgrade  to  an  Hungarian  nobleman's  residence,  where 
he  had  for  a  number  of  years  been  treated  as  a  son  of  the 
family.  In  consequence,  when  he  came  back  to  Turkey,  he 
had  made  a  vow  to  return,  as  ffir  as  he  was  able,  the  kind- 
ness with  which  he  had  been  treated,  and  among  other  things, 
said  that  twenty,  thousand  piastres  were  at  my  command.  I 
told  him  how  I  was  situated  with  the  caravan  of  merchan- 
dise coming  forward,  and  'the  gentleman  expected  from  Vi- 
enna having  declined  to  come  to  Orsova. 

With  his  assistance  I  might  no  doubt  have  crossed  the  con- 
tinent, and  made  the  best  of  my  way  to  England,  but,  at  leas', 
for  the  present,  that  project  could  not  be  carried  into  effect ; 
accordingly  1  received  from  him  next  day  eeven  thousand 
piastres  to  pay  the  expenses  incurred,  and  gave  a  friend  of 
his  an  order  to  receive  the  forty-five  camel  loads  oi  goods, 
resolving  to  return  to  Constantinople  and  thence  to  England 
without  delay,  in  the  hope  of  there  finding  general  support 
in  my  project,  frustrated  in  the  particular  patronage  I  had  ex- 
pected. 

The  following  day  I  left  Widdin ;  a  rapid  thaw  had  com- 
menced, and  it  was  noon  before  I  found  myself  ready  to  quit 
the  fortress.    I  shall,  having  elsewhere  sketched  the  journey, 


JOHN  OALT. 


147 


be  here  not  very  particular  but,  however  pleasant  in  a  poet- 
ical sense  it  may  be  to  stray  "On  the  banks  of  the  dark  rolling 
Danube,"  it  was  not  very  pleasant  to  travel  them.  The  tracks 
in  the  snow,  which  during  the  frost  had  been  converted  into 
highways,  were  turned  into  canals,  which  obliged  us  to  seek 
new  paths.  The  streams  which  had  been  frozen,  but  of  which 
the  ice  by  the  continual  tlioroughfare  of  passengers,  had 
been  in  many  places  broken,  were  full  and  rapid,  and  the 
horses  in  passing  several  times  plunged  up  to  the  belly,  •  to 
which  were  added,  a  lowering  sky,  a  wet  night,  and  cattle 
that  we  feared  to  be  obliged  to  leave  on  the  road.  However 
we  crossed  the  mountains  without  adventure  ;  but  in  a  cottage 
a  little  on  the  south  side  of  Kootlofskn,  I  experienced  another 
return  of  my  vexation.  In  the  corner  of  a  house,  however  a 
cask  of  wine  was  discovered,  which  with  a  little  persuasion 
was  broached,  and  as  tlic  rain  or  rather  melted  snow,  was  drop- 
ping a  heavy  shower,  we  were  glad  to  partake  of  the  wine 
— a  pan  and  a  fire  supplying  what  the  backwardness  of  the 
season  had  denied. 

From  Sophia,  Vilhi  Pasha's  head  quarter  were  removed, 
and  the  old  bishop  was  exceedingly  dejected  on  account  of  the 
renewal  of  hostilities,  and  the  taking  of  Loftsa  with  the  whole 
flower  of  the  vizier's  army,  amounting,  it  was  said,  to  13,000 
men.  It  was  impossible,  without  a  feeling  of  peculiar  sor- 
row, to  leave  that  interesting  and  helpless  old  man  in  a  situ- 
ation which  even  in  peace  and  summer  afforded  him  no  plea- 
sure, and  where  he  suffered  a  living  death  in  the  fears  of  life 
and  the  infirmities  of  age.  In  proceeding  towards  Constan- 
tinople, afler  halting  at  Piiilippopili,  I  met  with  a  mysterious 
adventure,  which  was  never  quite  explained. 

The  wetness  of  the  weather  had  obliged  me  to  take  refuge 
in  a  country  inn,  as  we  would  call  it,  and  afler  I  had  been 
there  about  an  hour,  a  band  of  travellers,  evidently  of  some 
rank,  came  into  the  coffee-house.  By  tlieir  dress,  they  ap- 
peared to  be  travelling  Jews,  but  there  was  something  about 
their  air  and  'mien  which  showed  more  of  the  soldier  than 
ihe  njv^rchant.    I  w^-s  amused  by  an  inadvertency  in  their  dis-r 


148 


THE  AUTOBIOORAPHY  OF 


guise  which  was  certainly  overlooked  by  themselves.  Their 
beards  were  all  too  short  for  the  characters  they  professed  to 
be ;  and  one  of  them,  a  young  man  under  thirty,  was  clean 
shaven,  which  at  once  betrayed  them.  The  "shaven  and 
shorn"  individual,  seeing  me  in  the  Prank  dress,  came  to- 
wards me,  and  presently,  to  my  surprise,  spoke  French,  and 
we  entered  into  conversation.  He  was  of  a  cheerful  dispo- 
sition, and  mentioned  that  they  had  come  from  Germany. 

After  some  time  the  weather  cleared  up  and  they  went 
away.  I  was  too  wet  to  go,  or  we  should  have  joined  forces. 
They  had  not  proceeded  above  an  hour  or  two,  when  some 
oUier  travellers  came  into  the  house,  and  I  learnt  from  them 
that  the  band  in  advance  were  surely  French  officers  go- 
ing on  some  secret  mission.  The^  person  who  gave  me  this 
information  mentioned  some  high  influential  names  of  persons 
who  were  in  the  secret,  among  others  Count  Ludolf,  the  Nea- 
litan  minister.  Altogether,  there  was  something  in  the  affair 
exceedingly  incomprehensible,  and  I  mentioned  to  Mr.  Can- 
ning, (Sir  Stratford  Canning,)  when  I  returned  to  Constanti- 
nople, my  obscure  gropings  which  these  men  had  caused.  He 
said  nothing,  but  it  was  very  evident  to  me  by  his  manner  that 
he  was  acquainted  with  the  circumstance.  Some  time^after» 
at  Smyrna,  I  was  told  by  the  consul  that  one  of  the  archdukes 
came  along  my  route  secretly  on  his  way  to  be  sent  to  Sar- 
dinia, to  marry  the  Princess  Beatrix  of  that  island.  This 
was  immediately  after  a  baron  of  his  Imperial  Highness's 
suite,  who  was  with  Mr.  Worry,  had  left  the  room.  I  have 
often  since  wondered  if  it  was  the  Archduke's  suite  that  I  had 
fallen  in  with,  and  my  inclination  is  to  thmk  it  was. 

From  Constantinople  I  proceeded  homeward  by  sea,  and, 
among  several  other  places,  staid  two  or  three  days  at  Misso- 
longhi,  since  so  famous  as  the  death-place  of  Lord  Byron.— 
The  weather  was  exceedingly  wet  while  I  was  there,  and  I 
could  not  stir  out,  in  consequence  of  which  I  was  obliged  to 
amuse  myself  as  well  as  I  could,  but  the  materials  were  very 
scanty.  However,  among  other  things,  the  master  of  the 
house,  where  I  staid,  had  a  copy  of  Goldoni's  dramatic  works. 


JOHN  OALT. 


149 


which  I  read  till  I  was  tired ;  and  then,  from  sheer  want  of 
something  else  to  do,  took  to  translating  them,  and  in  one 
day  translated  the  comedy  of  "  La  Gelousia  di  Lindoro,"  un- 
der the  name  of  "  The  Word  of  Honour."  The  work  was 
afterwards  publislied  in  blank  verse  in  "  The  New  British 
Theatre,"  and  is  one  of  my  greatest  feats,  whether  consid- 
ered for  quantity  or  execution.  I  also  next  day  translated 
another  comedy,  under  the  name  of"  Love,  Honour,  and  In- 
terest," which  was  also  published  in  the  same  work.  The  ge- 
nius r.f  Goldoni  is  not  of  a  high  order,  but  his  dialogue  is  sin- 
gularly natural.  In  my  version  it  is  on  stilts,  but  still  the  trans- 
lations afford,  in  iny  own  opinion,  a  passable  view  of  his  pecu- 
liarities. I  translated  also  several  passages  of  other  plays, 
but  completed  none  save  the  two  mentioned.  I  allude  to 
the  fact  merely  to  show  to  what  shifts  travellers  are  obliged 
to  have  recourse  for  amusement,  and  chiefly  because  Misso- 
longhi  is  now  Known  to  most  literary  men. 

At  Missolonghi  I  embarked  in  a  vessel  for  Messina,  where 
we  were  put  under  quarantine  for  eighteen  days.  The  room 
assigned  to  me  was  truly  lugubrious.  It  looked  into  a  court- 
yard, and  the  area  was  a  burying-ground,  which  obliged  me 
to  desire  the  porter  to  get  me  the  last  new  Italian  work.  Never 
was  an  order  more  fortunately  executed.  He  brought  me  the 
Life  and  Works  of  the  famous  Alfieri.  I  had  seen  his  "  Myr- 
rha"  performed,  but  1  cannot  describe  the  delight  the  volumes 
afforded ;  I  devoured  them ;  and  they  produced  an  immediate 
revolution  in  my  taste.  Previously  it  had  been  my  endeav- 
our to  be  dignified  and  classical,  but  on  reading  the  works 
of  Alfieri,  a  change  took  place,  arising  from  seeing  that  de- 
fect conspicuous  in  his  compositions.  In  the  midst  of  some 
of  the  finest  natural  bursts  of  passion,  a  recondite  expression 
marred  the  whole,  and  the  first  effect  was  the  following  con» 
trite  acknowledgment,  in  an 


M^ 


ODE  TO  SIMPLICITV. 

I- 

Mother  of  beauty,  nympli  divine, 
IJail,  ever  Tair  Simplicity  | 


N3 


"> 


'  ! 


150  THV  ▲VTOBIOORAPHY  OF 

LoQf  Air  remote  f^om  thy  grven  shtlnei  '        ; 

Eaehanted  by  tbo  wkard  powen, 
I  lingered  In  fantutic  towers, 
Nor  (bit  tby  mild  benignity . 

II. 

But  now  with  tbe  dissolvlngepell 

Fly  all  the  forms  or  sorcery, 
And  in  the  gentle  hermit's  cell, 
Restraint— that  to  tby  altar  brings 
A  temperate  feast  flrom  ffuits  and  springs. 

Allays  my  fevered  phantasy.  « ' 

III. 

Still  more  and  more, sweet  nymph,  inspire 

Thy  proselyte  and  votary. 
And  teach  him  as  he  wakes  the  wire,  "  , 

Those  sacred  touches  to  impart 
That  suddenly  surprise  the  heart  . 

Intby  unstudied  melody.  . 

I  afterwards  translated  and  abridged   the  autobiography 
of  the  poet,  and  began  those  dramatic  esaays  which  I  after- 
wards published,  and  may  again  republish,  for  now  the  na- 
ture that  I  have  endeavoured  to  throw  into  them  is  better 
understood.    However,  I  take  great  credit  to  myself  for  indus- 
try in  the  lazaretto  of  Messina,  having  enjoyed  there  with  su 
much  relish  those  sublime  works  which  are  every  day  be- 
coming better  known  to  all  Christendom.    It  is  needless  to 
say  here,  that  the  English  translations  published  Qf  the  Life, 
and  of  the  Plays,  give  no  idea  of  the  singular  felicity  with 
which  they  are  executed,  notwithstanding  those  blemishes, 
as  I  think  them  that  obscure  the  sense  of  particular  passages. 


I 


"s  ■  -  « 


JOHN  OAX/r. 


151 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Sardinia.  A  visit  from  the  Russian  ambassador.  Go  to 
Gibraltar.  Thence  to  Cork.  State  of  crime  in  Ireland. 
Proceed  home.    End  of  the  Third  Epoch. 

When  relieved  from  quarantine,  I  found  at  Messina  an  old 
acquaintance  in  General  Skirrot,  who  was  kind  enough  to  of- 
fer me  a  passage  with  himself  with  a  transport,  but  as  he 
could  not  exactly  say  when  she  would  sail,  1  went  forward  to 
Palermo,  and  thence  embarked  for  Sardinia,  where,  as  my 
information  respecting  the  island  was  tlicn  very  imperfect,  I 
staid  some  time,  and  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Joseph 
Smith,  the  secretary  of  legation,  a  gentleman  of  considera- 
ble taste  and  acquirements.*  He  pointed  out  to  me  one  of 
Alfieri's  particular  friends,  for  that  genius  was  then  pre- 
dominant in  my  reflections.  I  exchanged  there  for  the  En- 
glish translation  of  his  Life,  the  works  which  I  obtained  in  the 
lazaretto  of  Messina. 

An  agreeable  incident  happened  to  me  at  Cagliari,  which 
had  the  effect  of  prolonging  my  stay  several  days  in  Sar- 
dinia,— a  visit  from  the  Russian  ambassador.  He  spoke  En- 
glish perfectly,  better  than  any  foreigner  I  have  ever  known, 
and  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  our  leading  authors. 
He  was  the  first  from  whom  1  imbibed  a  right  notion  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Russian  government.  No  doubt  there  has  been 
some  shade  of  difference  always  between  our  respective  opin- 
ions, for  I  am  perhaps  a  little  prone  to  think  government 
should  be,  as  it  were,  committees  of  their  subjects ;  but  ^I 
could  not  perceive  that  he  has  ever  greatly  objected  to  this 
notion.  Like  all  the  Russians,  however,  that  I  have  ever 
known,  and  I  have  known  many  since  of  rank  and  talent, 
lie  seemed  to  coasider  governments  as  agents  having  the 

*  The  article  on  Sardinia,  in  my  Voyages  and  Travels,  was  revised  by  him 


152 


I!    I 


improvcm 
their  trust. 


AUrOBKXlRAPIIY   OP 


portion  of  mankind  their  suhjocts,  for 
Prince  is  younger  than  mo,  nnd  is  now  past 
the  active  period  of  life,  but  lam  sure  it  is  no  flattery  to  say, 
that  lie  ia  culculatedto  render  much  benefit  to  his  country,  no^ 
by  actions,  f  )r  he  is  not  a  man  of  action,  hut  he  iwsbOHsea 
great  intuitive  perception  of  character,  an  extent  of  prac- 
tical kno\vled;^c  quite  superior,  and  more  liberality  of  ideas 
than  most  men,  with  a  kindliness  of  feeling  that  is  exceed- 
ingly amiable.  As  a  counsellor  he  would  bo  in  his  sphere, 
and  one  wiio.se  advice  ought  to  bo  held  in  mucli  esteem,  not- 
withstanding the  easiness  ot  his  nature,  and  wiiat  may  bo  cal- 
led boyi.sh  eccentricity.  I  have  introduced  freely  my  opin- 
ion of  tl\is  gentle  and  good  man,  because  he  is  one  of  those 
whose  talents  and  discernment  are  only  justly  valued  by 
those  wlio  know  them  best. 

At  this  time  the  Princess  Beatrix  of  Sardinia  was  married, 
as  before  nientioned,  to  the  Arcluluke,  and  the  wedding  fes- 
tivities werogoingon.  I  was  invited  to  go  to  court  and  to 
partake  of  tiie  galas,  but  for  obvious  reasons  the  honour  was 
declined.  There  was,  however,  a  mask-ball,  which  was  a 
liuge  temptation ;  I  had,  however,  the  fortitude  to  withstand 
it.  In  truth,  being  very  dull,  I  had  no  enjoyment  in  things 
of  that  sort. 

As  will  be  seen  in  the  course  of  these  pages,  I  have  all 
my  life  been  liable  to  occasional  fits  of  abstraction,  unless  par- 
ticularly roused.    At  Cagliari,  a  ludicrous  incident  of  this 

kind  happened  when  Prince  K introduced  himself  to  me. 

The  weather  was  very  warm,  and  I  was  to  dine  at  the  ambas- 
sador's ;  in  consequence  the  process  of  my  dressing  was  slow, 
and  I  was  very  indolent.  I  had  only  got  on  my  stockings 
and  small  clothes,and  was  sitting  in  my  shirt  reading,  of  all 
things.  Dr.  Black's  translation  of  the  Life  of  Alfieri.  The 
room  in  which  I  was  sitting  had  a  tiled  floor,  and  was  swarm^ 
ing  with  fleas  and  sand-flies.  In  reading  the  book  I  felt  my 
legs  often  annoyed  by  these  bloody-minded  beasts,  and  with- 
out thinking  that  I  had  on  white  silk  stockings,  every  now 
and  then  committed  murder.    On  the  entrance  of  the  prince 


JOHN  OAt/r. 


./ 


153 


ve  all 
sspar- 
of  this 
0  me. 
mbas- 
slow, 
ckings 
of  all 
The 
warm', 
Bit  my 
with- 
y  now 
prince 


I  was  roused  from  my  abstraction,  and  lo  and  behold !  my 
stockings  were  all  frickied  with  blood,  and  God  knows  how 
many  lives  I  had  to  answer  for. 

From  Cagliari  I  went  with  the  packet  to  Gibraltar,  where  1 
said  two  or  three  days  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  some  com- 
mercial information,  and  to  consider  at  leisure  the  local  cir- 
cuuistancns  of  the  place;  in  order  that  if  I  returned  to  the 
Mediterranean,  I  might  not  bo  altogether  ignorant  of  its  com- 
mercial advantages.  But  I  considered  my  travels  asover: 
Hi  least  I  made  no  particular  note  of  what  I  saw  after  leav- 
ing Sardinia. 

Willie  I  rcinained  at  the  fortress,  I  was  much  indebted  to 
the  kindness  and  hospitality  of  my  friend  the  late  Colonel 
Wriglit,  but  I  did  not  at  this  time  fall  in  with  any  particular 
character.  From  Gibraltar  I  went  to  Cork,  where  we  were 
again  put  under  quarantine  at  Cove.  During  the  quarantine 
nothing  particular  occurred  ;  but  I  got  the  newspapers  regu- 
larly, and  was  naturally  led  to  think  of  the  condition  of  Ire- 
land. The  assizes  were  then  sitting,  and  ^by  carefully  peru- 
sing the  publication  of  the  different  trials,  it  appcar'^d  to  me, 
by  notes  formed  at  the  time,  that  much  of  the  raukncss  of  crim- 
inality among  tiio  Irish  was  owinsf  to  some  defect  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice;  and  I  find  I  remarked,  that  the  con- 
duct of  Irish  juries  proved  that  juries  were  not  fit  for  all  peo- 
ple, and  particularly  for  the  Irish    people : an  observation 

of  more  depth  than  I  was  then  aware  of,  and  made  in  con- 
sequence of  a  trial  in  v^rhich  I  took  particular  interest  as  it 
was  reported  in  "  The  Cork  Intelligencer"  of  the  10th  of  Au- 
gust, 1811. 

One  Thomas  Murphy  was  indicte  d  at  the  Carrickfergus  as- 
sizes for  uttering  forged  notes  in  imitation  of  the  notes  of 
the  Greenock  Bank  Company,  "  knowing  the  same  to  be 
forged."  The  teller  of  the  bank,  to  whom  the  notes  were 
made  payable,  was  called  to  prove  the  forgery ;  but  the  judge 
observed  that  he  was  only  the  payee,  and  that  it  would  be  ne- 
cessary in  this  prosecution  that  the  cashier,  or  person  who  sign- 
ed the  notes,  should  be   present  to  prove  the  forgery.    The 


154 


I  1 


-«V.."- 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


person  not  being  present,  the  jury  immediately  found  the 
prisoner  "  not  guilty."  The  note  which  I  made  on  this  trial 
is  curious,  as  it  shewed  that  I  thought  the  judge  ignorant  of 
banking  business,  and  the  teller  ignorant  of  law.  Tlie  judge 
ought  to  have  told  him,  that  although  he  was  only  the  payee 
of  the  note,  his  name  in  it  was  actually  written  by  himself, 
and  therefore  he  was  fully  competent  to  prove  the  forgery. — 
I  have  no  recollection  of  mentioning  this  opinion  to  any  per- 
son, but  the  correctness  of  it  seems  indisputable. 

It  appears  from  reading  the  different  trials  in  the  papers,  at 
that  time,  that  crime  was  very  rife  in  Ireland,  and  1  drew 
an  inference  from  what  I  read,  that  deserves  some  attention, 
for  I  speak  of  it  with  historical  impartiality,  not  having  for 
more  than  twenty  years  looked  at  the  notes  or  remembered 
t'  :  occurrence.  It  is,  that  from  the  way  the  Irish  have  of  com- 
L  ning  together,  and  of  supporting  each  other  in  opposition  to 
the  judicature  and  government  of  the  country,  it  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  prosecute  only  the  individuals  who  commit  great 
offences ;  but  that  even  the  districts  in  which  the  offenders 
reside,  ought  to  be  mulcted  in  some  way  or  other, — the  neigh- 
bourhood ought  to  be  made  responsible  to  the  nation  for  the  in- 
juries which  its  members  do  to  the  public.  Something  in  the 
manner  that  tithings  and  hundreds,  were  made  responsible 
for  the  conduct  of  their  inhabitants  in  King  Alfred's  time. 

Another  curious  fact  was  mentioned,  as  matters  of  news 
only,  in  the  "Cork  Morning  Intelligencer"  of  the  2rM  of  Au- 
gust, 1811.  It  was  stated  that  one  Dennis  Murvonnagh  pre- 
sented a  petition  to  Mr.  Justice  Daly,  reprercnting,  that  on 
the  10th  of  July,  1811,  his  son  was  murdered  at  Derrygon- 
eily;  that  on  the  11th  the  brother  of  the  deceased  applied  to 
Dr.  Nixon,  a  magistrate  of  the  county,  for  a  warrant  against 
the  murderers,  which  Dr.  Nixon  refused — that  on  the  13th 
the  petitioner  applied  to  the  Rev.  William  Owens,  the  next 
resident  magistrate,  and  vvas  again  refused ;  and  that  the 
petitioner  applied  to  Dr.  Stewart,  another  magistrate  of  tho 
county,  and  provost  of  Enniskillen,and  was  once  more  refused, 
and  told  to  apply  to  Dr,  Owens,  as  he  had  done  before.     Tho 


JOHN    OALT. 


155 


judge  ordered  the  petitioner  to  go  to  Major  Brooks,  who  would 
take  the  information ;  but  when  the  poor  man  had  assembled 
hid  witnesses,  the  major  had  gone  into  tho  country,  and  the 
murderer  was  going  about  unmolested. — Where  such  things 
are  permitted,  misrule  and  disorder  only  can  exist. 

Living  solitary  on  board  the  vessel,  and  having  but  news- 
papers to  amuse  mo,  I  was  much  struck  with  the  prevalence 
of  atrocity  in  Ireland,  compared  with  what  1  heard  of  in  Tur- 
key, although  we  speak  of  that  country  as  in  a  state  of  anar- 
chy ;  and  I  made  another  note  of  what  appeared  to  me  at  the 
time  a  curious  instance  of  the  depravity  in  Ireland  to  which 
human  nature  sometimes  sinks.  It  is  that  murders  are  com- 
mitted there  from  causes  and  grudges,  of  which  the  English 
have  no  conception.  In  the  same  paper  from  which  I  took  the 
foregoing  anecdote,  mention  is  made  of  a  man  having  been 
murdered  by  liis  fellow-labourers,  from  pure  invidiousness. — 
IJc  was  a  stranger  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  employed 
as  a  stone  mason  at  some  new  building  of  Colonel  Vereker's, 
at  Ticrwharn.  I  never  heard  of  a  similar  crime  from  a  sim, 
ilar  cause  havin.fr  been  committed  in  Enjjland  or  Scotland,  or 
elsewhere. 

These  remarks  are  the  nucleus  of  my  notes  during  the  time 
1  was  under  quarantine. — When  relieved  from  that  captivity, 
'  I  went  to  tlie  city  of  Cork,  whore  letters  from  home  were 
awaiting  me.  Ailer  dinner,  I  set  off  in  the  mail  for  Dublin ; 
next  day  stopped  in  that  city,  to  which  I  had  letters,  and  hired 
a  coach  and  man  to  go  about  with  me,  to  shew  me  all  the  ob- 
jects of  curiosity.  In  the  evening,  I  set  out  in  the  mail  for  Bel- 
fast, embarked  at  Donairhadee,  and  in  due  season,  as  fast  as 
the  poi^'t,  was  taken  to  Greenock ;  there  I  remained  a  few 
days   with  my  friends,  and  then  proceeded  to  London. 


156 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


!l 


!   ( 


i 


EPOCH  FOURTH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Periodical  estimates.  Abandon  the  intention  of  studying 
the  law.  Also  the  Levant  scheme.  Publish  my  travels.'^ 
Renew  my  acquaintance  with  Lord  Byron. 

In  a  work  of  this  kind  it  is  necessary  to  make  periodical  esti- 
mates of  character,  and  to  determine  occasionaUy  whether 
one  has  been  stationary,  progressive,  or  retrograde. 

During  an  absence  of  between  two  and  three  years,  I 
was  only  sensible  of  having  become  more  self-sustained.  For- 
mer intimates  appeared  as  I  had  left  them ;  perhaps  it  is  al- 
ways so  with  those  who  remain  stationary :  their  topics  of 
conversation  were  of  course  different,  being  influenced  by 
the  aspect  of  the  times,  but  their  minds  had  undergone  no 
change.  They  reminded  me  of  my  companions  at  Greenock, 
when  I  first  returned  from  London.  For  myself,  undoubt- 
edly, I  cared  less  for  the  circumstances  in  which  I  found  in^ 
dividuals  than  I  had  done  before,  and  had  loss  reverence  for 
condition:  the  appliances  of  life  had  lost  much  of  their  effect 
on  me.  The  world  seemed,  however,  unchanged  as  it  were  in 
its  contour,  but  every  thing  appeared  invested  with  a  new 
light. 

By  my  visit  to  Greenock,  I  learned  from  my  brothe^'s  let- 
ters that  his  prospects  had  rather  faded,  and  being  intent  on 
my  Levant  speculation,  I  determined  not  t  j  proceed  in  the  study 
of  the  law — an  equivocal  determination.  Had  1  sat  down  in 
chambers,  and  addicted  myself  to  literary  pursuits,  my  life 
would  have  become  more  equable  and  quiet.  But  the  total  want 
of  patronage  was  ever  before  me,  and  I  saw  it  might  be  im- 
possible to  claim  from  my  brother  that  pecuniary  assistance 
which  would  be  required  during'my  studies  for  the  bar. 


1 


f 


JOHN  GALT. 


:.m'i- 


157 


,  On  reaching  London,  1  resolved  to  proceed  witli  my  Levant 
scheme,  and  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  ascertaining  if 
Mr.  Canning  (Sir  Stratford)  had  made  any  communication  on 
the  subject  to  the  foreign  office,*  as  I  conceived  tliat  commu- 
nication essential  to  my  project.  Tlie  result  of  my  inquiries 
was  a  negative,  whicii  determined  me  to  wait  till  his  letters 
were  received.  At  the  same  time  I  was  indignant  to  observe 
how  little  attention  was  paid  at  the  otfice  to  an  objuct  evi- 
dently important ;  and  T  was  not  very  remiss  in  making  the 
gentleman  I  spoke  to,  understand  wliat  impression  his  indif- 
lerence  made  on  me. 

Some  two  or  three  days  aftur,  I  was  surprised  by  receiving 
a  visit  from  the  now  well  known  Mr.  liuine.  I  knew  iiioj  be- 
fore ;  but  not  intimately.  The  object  of  his  visit,  tiiough  it 
seemed  one  of  mere  courtesy,  was  to  ascertain  what  .'  ''.J 
expected  from  the  foreign  office  towards  the  cstablishin  of 
my  plan.  In  consequence  I  concluded  that  letters  hav  '  i 
received  from  Mr.  Canning,  but,  tinding  myself  disappointed 
of  support  in  the  quarters  I  expected,  and  the  repulsive  cold- 
ness witli  which  the  design  was  received,  I  told  Mr.  Hume 
that  I  had  nothing  to  ask.f 

When  I  fjund  myself  in  this  state  of  disappointment,  and 
not  very  well  knowing  what  to  do,  I  resolved  to  publish  my 
Travels,  and  wiiile  the  proofs  were  going  through  the  press?, 
accepted  an  invitation  to  stay  with  Dr.  'i'illnch  to  avail  myself 
of  his  assistance  in  correcting  tboiii.  With  him  1  staid  till 
the  work  was  finished,  and  then  removed  into  lodgings,  de- 
termined in  my  own  mind  to  follow  a  very  sc(pu>wt',red  course 

*  I  find  the  followinp  note:— 

"■2il  March,  (811  —Mr.  (^"amiins  meniinnod  to  mi;  this  cvflnins,  that  he  wns 
iiboiu  to  prufKiHe  a  plan  lo  ffovfriiin.iii  jelalivi  to  tho  An  uipHlauo.  and  said 
that  lie  wcitild  t«'coiniiiHiici  me  lo  l)»'  plai  cd  at  the  hwiil  of  it  For  this  puriiose 
he  took  my  uddrtss  hiKli  iii  i,i>iid<>ii  and  iii  s^ruilawd." 

t  I.iimy  h«'re  iiicntton  ii<cideiiiaily  thiii  my  plan  ofconvevinfj  LMods  inin  (he 
continent,  by  Turkey,  was  arttTward-i  partly  car.  icd  into  t'lVHt;t  hy  oihnrs  with 
areai  profit  (  \va«,  however,  !iurpris»d  lo  heiir  Mr.  Canuii.i  iinMilion  thai  th« 
bro.hfr,  I  hehfive,  of  rli"  t'f'iiih^maii  wlioiii  I  was  lo  nit'H  aiOrsn-va,  and  wm 
by  disappoiiitina  ru<!  I  shull  always  regard  as  the  taiisr  of  my  t^cheine  noi  be- 
ini?  car.  icd  iiiio  etliict,  hud  iiiidei  valiifd  to  hhn  i's  pructira'dlity  Ai  this  time 
having  abatid()iie<l  ih»-  phin  ( saul  iioi  hinu,  hnl  i  wrnty  years  iifur,  I  rf  iiicinher  it 
with  a  iiriid-jp,  tor  althon>,'h  a  very  prohlaldL-  liusincss  was  carriid  on,  ii  waa 
far  shoii  of  tlio  comprehensive  pr.  j.-ct  I  hud  formed,  and  whicli  perliaps  I  may 
he  induced  yet  to  piiMivh. 

o 


mf 


156 


THB  AVTOBIOORAPHT  OF 


of  life.  I  do  not  say  that  I  thought  the  gentlemen  wrong  to 
whom  I  made  my  plan  known,  but  I  was  much  dissatisfied 
with  the  whole  manner  in  which  the  business  was  received, 
and  the  aspect  of  things  around  me  was  not  very  promising. 
During  this  period  1  renewed  my  acquaintance  witi  Lord 
Byron,  who  had  returned  home. 

Whether  it  was  about  this  time  he  showed  me  the  papers 
of  the  first  sale  of  Newstead,  I  do  not  now  recollect;  but  re- 
member very  well,  when  he  did,  that  I  expressed  my  surprise 
that  he  should  think  of  convert '.ng  to  his  own  use  the  proceeds 
of  a  property  which  belonged  lo  the  heirs  of  the  family  rather 
than  to  himself.  '  '  '  •* 

One  day  wiien  we  dined  together  in  the  St.  Alban's  Coffee- 
house, which  stood  near  Waterloc-place,  his  Lordship  was 
very  ^much  agitated  having  been  on  a  consultation  with  his 
lawyer  respecting  a  libel  on  his  mother,  published,  if  I  recol- 
lect right,  in  the  Satirist.  An  expression  in  the  libel,  which 
he  quoted,wa8,  that  it  would  be  proved  he  was  the  illegitimate 
son  of  a  murderer.  I  advised  hira  to  take  no  notice  of  the 
libel,  for  his  having  been  received  into  the  House  of  Lords 
was  pioof  enoucrh  of  the  falsehood;  adding  that  it  was  vexing 
himself  to  read  such  things,  and  that  1  never  wilfully  read 
any  thing  libellous  on  my  friends. 

He  became  more  paciried,'and  I  heard  no  more  of  the  trans- 
action, though  he  was  in  the  practice  of  occasionally  calling 
at  my  lodgings  as  he  went  to  the  House  of  Lords,  to  give 
me  a  frank. 

There  was,  however,  about  this  extraordinary  young  noble- 
man something  that,  even  while  he  was  agreeable,  rhccke« 
all  confidence  ;  for  though  his  temper  was  not  decidedly  bad, 
it  was  skinless  and  capricious,  and  I  was  not  always  in  an  hu- 
mour to  accord  that  indulgence  which  he  constantly  required. 
Of  all  men  I  have  ever  known,  he  had  the  least  equanimity, 
and  yet  in  his  felicitous  moments  he  was  singularly  amusing, 
often  interesting.  To  me  there  was  an  agreeable  excitement 
frequently  produced  by  hk  conversation,  but  he  claimed  more 
deference  than  I  was  disposed  to  grant.    The  fault  might 


JOH#OALT.' 


—       159 


ttong  to 
leatisfied 
eceivcd* 
omising. 
ti  Lord 

}  papers 
;  but  re- 
surprise 
proceeds 
ily  rather 

*s  CoflTee- 
iship  was 
with  his 
f  I  rccol- 
el,  which 
legitimate 
ice  of  the 
)  of  Lords 
as  vexing 
fully  read 

the  trans- 
y  calling 
s,  to  give 


however  bo  mine,  for  certainly,  in  proportion  as  a  superiority 
is  assumed,  I  have  all  my  life  risen  against  it  This  v/eak- 
ness  with  men  of  the  world  may  be  laughable,but  to  those^who 
are  only  half  and  half  it  seems  presumptuous:  I  am  as  well 
aware  as  any  man  can,  be,  that  it  sets  up  the  hair  on  the 
backs  of  those  who  plume  themselves  on  their  birth  or  fortune. 


M. 


H 


e. 


jng  noble- 
rheckfec 
dedly  bad, 

in  an  hu- 
f  required, 
quanimity, 
Y  amuising, 
jxcitement 
imed  more 

ult  might 


I) 


160 


«»-*'-f 


THE  AU 


APHY  OF 


••v-'i'.  •■■    ' 


CHAPTER  II.  :* 

Critiques  on   my    Travels,     My  brother^s  opinion.    Poli- 
tical predictions.     Their  fulfilment'  ^, 

The  publication  of  my  Voyages  and  Travels  was  in  some  sort, 
an  era.  The  volume  was  rather  handsomer  than  common,  and 
it  was  printed  witliout  the  mediation  of  a  bookseller,  a  mode  of 
proceeding  by  which  I  may  not  have  reaped  any  pecuniary 
advantage;  but  my  manuscripts  are  all  such  scrawled  and 
blotted  things,  that  nobody  would  read  them  in  their  original 
state.  My  custom  since  is  to  write  and  print  simultaneously, 
and  to  go  to  press  when  there  is'about  a  sheet  of  copy  ready. 

Of  the  opinions  expressed  by  the  different  critical  periodi- 
cals, 1  have  now  no  remembrance  ;  for  I  have  had  always  in 
private  more  severe  critics  than  "  the  executioners  in  masque," 
and  their  strictures  have  hardened  me  to  endure  the  animad- 
versions of  the  others,  even  when  thev  seemed  to  think  I  had 
offend'^d,  as  if  publication  hnplied  an  obligatioajto  buy  against 
tiieir  will.  What  the  Quarterly  Review  said,  r  know  not.  1 
have  never  read  it ;  for  being  out  of  town  at  the  time  the 
number  was  published,  my  slioulders  escaped  the  flagellation 
but '  have  always  understood  it  was  very  bad,  and  that  through 
mistake  1  v/as  treated  as  a  whig.  The  Edinburgh,  if  this 
report  be  true,  must  have  been  really  better,  for  I  do  not  re- 
m(Miii)er  that  it  spoke  at  all  of  my  supposed  politics.  Upon 
the  whole  I  was  pleased  with  it,  for  in  those  days  I  was  sim- 
pletoii  enough  to  believe  that  reviewers  posseti^  :*d  more  tiian 
common  acumen  and  more  accurate  information  than  most 
men.  Sut  before  the  number  of  the  Review  appeared,  my 
ecjuanimily  was  put  to  deperate  proof  A  friend  was  sitting  in 
the  advocate's  library,  in  Edinburgh,  looking  at  my  book, 
when  .Teffrey  ca)ne  in,  and  turning  over  a  few  pages,  said,  it 
seemed  to  show  some  grasp  of  mind,  an  expression  that  gave 


I!, 


JOHN  OALf. 


161 


me  cause  to  hope  the  sentence  would  be  mild.  I  hnd  prepared 
myself 'for  severity,  and  this  accidental  anti-trial  judgment 
discomposed  me,  for  although  I  had  not  the  information  direct 
myself,  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  it  correct,  and  that 
there  was  a  favourable  leaning  in  that  quarter  towards  me, 
especially  when  informed  by  Park  that  an  application  had 
been  made  to  him  to  write  a  critique.  However,  in  the  end 
he  had  not  the  courage,  and  declined  it  on  prudential  motives. 
From  that  time  I  gave  up  all  expectation  of  receiving  any 
hitch  of  help  in  literature,  more  than  in  business;  but  I  was 
mortified,  for  by  this  time  I  had  begun  to  suspect  that  a  good 
word  was  as  useful  to  custom  in  book-making,  as  in  any  other 
trade. 

Although  the  volume  of  my  Voyages  and  Travels  was  not 
received  as  a  phcenix,  with  any  particular  laud  and  admira- 
tion from  the  other  birds  and  fowls  of  the  same  element,  the 
reception,  as  evinced  by  the  sale,  was  satisfactory,  and  it  still 
lives  though  it  sleeps,  for  I  sometimes  hear  of  it  turning  in  the 
curtained  obscurity  to  which  it  has  been  consigned.  I  should  not, 
however,  omit  to  mention,  as  it  was  a  sort  of  first  book,  that  I 
derived  particular  pleasure  from  an  opinion  "expressed  on  it, 
which  1  knew  was  really  worth  something,  for  its  honesty  at 
least;  I  allude  to  what  my  brother  thought  of  it,  for  on  his 
judgment  I  had  great  reliance.  His  letter  was  as  follows: 

"  lloiiduraa,  14tli  .tune,  J812. 

"  I  received  your  letter  of  22d  January,  accompanied  with 
your  first  publication,  the  perusal  of  which  has  afforded  me 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure;  and  those  who  have  read  if,  and  for 
whose  opinion  I  have  any  regard,  have  returned  it  to  me  with 
favourable  reports  it  certainly  contains  much  information  of 
places,  which,  though  known  to  every  one  by  general  descrip- 
tion, were  still  to  be  familiarized  by  that  comparative  view 
with  well  known  objects  at  home  which  gives  the  most  cor- 
rect idea  of  places  at  a  distance ;  but  it  may  perhaps  be  object- 
ed, that  some  of  your  comparisons  have  too  much  locality  to 
render  them  generally  understood.  Your  description  of  the 
characters,  manners,  and  mode  of  living  of  the  people  you 

0  2 


162 


THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


have  travelled  amongst,  is,in  my  opinion,  the  best  part  of  your 
work.  I  can  almost  fancy  myself  as  much  acquainted  with 
your  Turks  and  Greeks  as  if  I  had  accompanied  you.  I  do 
not  rpinember  any  work  where  the  writer  introduces  you  so 
fdinilinrly  to  the  natives,  and  makes  an  intimate  acquaintance 
of  you.  You,  with  all  the  license  of  familiarity,  do  find  fault 
and  complain  of  bad  dinners  and  bad  beds,  mortifications 
which  seem  to  have  attended  a  great  part  of  your  journey, 
and  to  which  custom  did  not  appear  to  reconcile  you.  *  * 
In  (lutes  and  distances  of  places  you  are  inexcusably  negligent. 
I  do  not  like,  either,  your  mode  of  dividing  the  book.  Your 
moveniontis  are  too  rapid  to  follow  your  route  on  the  map; 
you  are  landed  in  Sicily,  before  we  know  you  intended  to  em- 
bark from  the  country  "  where  tlie  inhabitants  still  wear 
skins."  Your  "  political  reflections"  are  ill  calculated  to  awa- 
ken conviction  to  the  minds  of  men  made  up  of  "files  and 
precedents,"  or  to  alter  t!uit  grovelling  opposition  to  the  fijr- 
midable  antl  overwhelming  continental  system  which  crushes 
tjie  impotent  attempts  that  have  been  hitherto  made  agamst  it, 
jind  which  there  is  little  reason  to  believe  will  be  rendered 
more  eft'ectual,  when  the  only  members  of  administration  who 
might  be  expected  to  adopt  something  more  decisive  are  retir- 
ing in  disgust."  *      ' 

I  did  not  remombor  the  political  reflections  a;  this  time,  un- 
til there  was  occasion  to  refer  from  my  brotlier's  letter  to  as- 
certain from  rlie  book  its^elf  to  what  he  alluded  ;  but  it  was  a 
pHftofthe  work  to  wiiicij  the  Edinburf^h  Review  particularly 
reft' rred,  and  ndverled  to  it  as  (ieserving  of  attention.  It  re- 
arlly  appears  i.ow,  thai:  the  predictions  have  acquired  an  air  of 
veracity  which  did  not  strike  me  at  the  time,  and  there  is 
a  passage  to  whicii,  probably,  the  reviewer  referred,  that 
seems  more  like  raflections  after  the  events  had  taken  place, 
than  anticipations.     Itisiliis: — 

"The  conspiracy  of  kings  against  mankind  is  supposed  to 
have  been  arranged  on  or  before  12th  of  January  last  (1811); 
but  the  very  na*ure  of  the  policy  of  the  British  nation  will, 
more  than  her  njnis,  eiiable  her  to  overcome  this  hydra.     Her 


i 


JOHN   OALT. 


163 


allies  are  now  mankind  ;  and  the  superiority  of  a  commercial, 
over  a  njilitary  system,  begins  to  be  aci<nowledged  by  tlie 
most  fanatical  worshippers  of  French  glory. 

"The  aim  of  a  commeicial  system  is  to  maintain  the  ex- 
isting state  of  things,  because  security  is  essential  to  the  progh 
perity  of  commerce,  and  without  some  assurance  of  perma- 
nency in  the  circumstances  under  which  commercial  projects 
are  formed,  they  are  never  prosecuted  with  the  activity 
requisite  to  success.  But  the  security  necessary  to  com- 
merce does  not  imply  that  the  existing  state  of  things  should 
be  forcibly  maintained  ;  on  the  contrary,  only  this,  that  it 
should  not  be  suddenly  altered,  for  the  tendency  of  a  com- 
mercial system  is  to  improve  the  existing  state  of  things, and 
improvemetit  is  not  at  variance  with,  but  is  the  food  of  ttabili- 
ty.  The  military  systcjm  is  HhHtnted  by  the  condition  of 
the  mhabitants  of  Holland,  Germany,  Italy,  Spain,  and  wher- 
ever the  French  arms  have  been  curried.  The  commercial 
system  is  seen  in  Malta  and  Sicily,  und  is  remembered  wherev- 
er the  British  manufactures  liuve  had  access.  But  that  cruel 
coercion  which  has  sent  from  the  shores  of  so  many  slates  ao 
many  harmless  and  helpless  beings,  cannot  long  endure;  each 
individual  victim  of  that  bigotry  which  persecutes  industry 
even  with  fire  and  fago'ot  has  his  desire  of  comfort  and  of  dis- 
tinction  as  strongly  as  the  infatuated  princes  of  the  continent, 
but  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things  that  this  desire  should  not 
manifest  itself.  It  is,  however,  not  against  the  wretched  dis- 
ciples of  tiio  prophet  of  oppression  that  the  wrath  of  mankind 
•hould  be  directed,  it  is  against  that  nation  which  for  a  vain- 
glorious purpose  is  the  innate  enemy  of  all  that  is  just,  venera- 
ble, and  holy;  until  France  be  reduced  again  to  a  moderate 
condition,  there  can  he  no  moral  advancement^  7io  hope  of 
prosperity  tj  the  continent  of  Europe,  * 

"  But  in  wliat  manner  is  Great  Britain  to  render  her  pres- 
ent vantage  ground  available ;  by  what  means  are  we  to  re- 
ceive and  embody  with  our  own  strength  those  innumerable 
individuals  over  tiie  continent,  who  long  to  embrace  and  to 
promote  our  cause ;  how  are  the  phj/sical,  moral,  and  social 


164 


THE   AVTOBIOORAPHY   Or 


qualities  of  mankind  to  be  so  amalgamated  as  to  produce  po 
litical  effects  1  Only  by  Great  Britain  proclaiming  her  re- 
solution to  maintain  an  insular  empire  in  opposition  to  the  con- 
tinental system,  to  avow  that  all  the  islands  over  which  her 
jurisdiction  has  not  yot  been  extended,  are  only  not  hers 
because  she  has  not  found  it  convenient  to  take  possession  of 
them,  and  that  what  she  does  take  possession  of  she  will 
maintain  to  the  utmost,  and  consider  as  integral  parts  of  her 
empire  never  to  be  ceded  by  treaty,  never  to  be  separated  but 
by  the  sword.  Oi  the  utility  of  such  policy  we  have  proof  and 
experience  in  the  state  of  our  relations  with  Turkey,  What 
protects  the  remnants  of  our  Levant  factories  in  that  paralyzed 
realm  from  being  expelled  like  our  otiier  merchants  from  the 
rest  of  Europe,  but  the  known  conviction  on  the  mind  of  the 
French  ruler,  that  the  moment  we  are  obliged  to  consider  the 
Sultan  as  an  enemy,  separates  from  the  Ottoman  empire  the 
populous  and  fertile  islands  of  the  Ionian  and  Levant  seas  1 
With  this  fact  before  our  eyes  ought  we  not  to  carry  our  views 
still  further,  and  to  look  forward  to  what  would  be  a  decisive 
avowal  of  our  insular  sovereignty,  the  natural  necessary  con- 
sequence of  our  maritime  power.  Nations  have  not  triburals 
of  justice  like  men  in  society,  power  among  them  is  the  cri- 
terion of  right,  and  those  who  deny  this  principle,  doubt  the 
dispensations  of  providence  :  the  circumstances  of  ihe  times 
and  of  our  affairs  call  on  us  to  look  boldly  at  principles,  and  to 
act  with  decision." 

I  quote  the  preceding  reflections  to  show  what  was  then 
the  current  of  my  thoughts.  The  event  has  come  to  pass 
that  was  predicted  from  the  nature  of  things ;  the  insolent 
French  system  has  been  turned  into  derision,  and  the  apostle  of 
national  perdition"^  is  buried  in  the  cleft  of  a  rock  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  liberated  sea. 


f 


i: 


.-* 


•  Rather  nstr.inire  iirwl  nncoiirrenns  prrii'hra>e  for  d' pienHting  Nnpolonn, 
Kniperor  of  Pniticc  and  Kinguf  Ituly— warrior,  Itgltilator,  and  conqueror  uf 
natione.— Edit. 


xluce  po 
ig  her  re- 
0  the  con- 
which  her 
not  hers 
session  of 
:  she  will 
rts  of  her 
Birated  but 
proof  and 
r.  What 
paralyzed 
from  the 
nd  of  the 
isider  the 
npire  the 
int  seas  ? 
tur  views 
decisive 
sary  con- 
triburals 
the  cri- 
loubt  the 
he  times 
s,  and  to 

if&s  then 

to  pass 

insolent 

postle  of 

the  mid- 


iiquemr  of 


JOHN  WALT 


165 


'.        CHAPTER  in.    .  ' 

Transit  trade  throuij;h  Turkey,  do  hark  to  (ilhraltar.  R  - 
turn  to  London.  Marry.  Adventure  with  Mrs.  Mary 
Ann   Clarke. 

About  this  time  I  heard  that  tho  goods  by  the  caravan  of 
camels,  wliich  I  had  conducted  to  Widdin,  had  arrived  safe  at 
their  destination,  and  that  tiiere  was  secretly  a  niont  proHtablo 
commercial  mtercourse  g<*ini;  on  in  tho  ronte  I  had  opened  up 
between  Salonica  by  way  of  Sophia  to  Widdin.  The  news 
gave  me  great  pleasure,  and  at  the  same  time  excessive  pain, 
tor  there  wore  many  circums^tances  connected  with  the  pro- 
ject that  convinced  me  I  might  think  good  thoughts,  but  had 
not  the  luck  to  carry  them  into  effect. 

In  this  slate  of  fluctuating  feeling,  Alr.Kirkman  Finlay  was 
in  London,  and  explained  to  me  that  his  house  had  some  in- 
tention of  establisiiing  a  brancii  at  Gibraltar,  Spain  being  then 
overrun  by  tho  French;  and  proposed  to  provide  for  me  in 
it.  This  proposition  was  one,  for  different  reasons,  the  most 
acceptable  that  could  bo  made,  for  although  burning  with 
indignation  at  the  manner  in  which  I  had  been  allowed  to 
incur  dan2"er  and  vexation  at  Widdin,  I  could  not  conceive 
that  the  manner  in  wliich  I  had  Committed  the  caravan  to  the 
care  of  a  Greek,  could  be  oiiiorwise  than  unpleasant.  But  it 
has  been  my  fortune,  however  meagre  in  the  re&ultp,  to  bring 
me  in  connexion  with  honourable  specimens  of  human  na- 
ture. I  therefore  closed  at  once  with  Mr.  Finlay,  and  was 
ultimately  sent  to  Gibraltar  with  another  gentleman. 

The  nature  of  our  business  was  not  such  as  I  would  have 
preferred,  but  in  my  circumstances  it  was  agreeable,  and  a 
connexion  with  Mr.  Finlay's  house,  with  many  of  the  partners 
of  which  I  was  personally  acquainted,  was  of  all  things,  as  it 
seemed,  a  stroke  of  good  fortune;  but  1  soon  saw  in  the  busi- 


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33  WIST  MAIN  STfTEET 

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^. 


166 


THC  AUTOBIOORAPHT  OF 


neps  at  Gibraltar  I  would  be  out  of  my  element;  for,  unfor- 
tunately,  I  never  in  my  life  have  been  able  to  lay  my  heart 
to  any  business  whatever  in  which  the  imagination  had  not  a 
share.  Part  of  the  plan  received  a  sudden  check  by  the  victo- 
rious career  in  the  Peninsula  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and 
1  do  not  exaggerate  my  feelings  when  I  say  that  I  repined  at 
his  victories.  His  triumphal  entry  hito  Madrid  was  the  death 
of  my  hopes,  but  there  wan  no  decent  pretext  ibt  coming 
away,  so  I  staid  there  several  months ;  at  last,  however,  I 
found  myself  obliged  by  necessity  to  return  to  London  for  sur- 
gical advice ;  and  yet  it  was  with  me  absolutely  a  struggle 
whether  to  endure  the  progress  of  a  vital  disease,  or  to  take 
this  step.  At  last  the  love  of  life  predominated,  and  I  came 
home  equally  chagrined  with  the  complexion  of  my  fortunes 
and  depressed  with  my  malady.  What  added  to  my  humilia* 
tions  was,  that  a  triend  who  conceived  he  might  address  him- 
self freely  to  me,  soon  afler,  in  total  ignorance  of  the  case, 
wrote  to  me  a  letter,  implying  great  imprudence  in  my  con- 
duct for  coming  home.  Immediately,  by  return  of  post,  I 
wrote  hi(n  an  account  of  the  whole  affitir,  and  the  diseased 
condition  of  myself,  which  £  had  not  revealed  to  any  peri^i 
but  the  late  Mr.  Lynn,  the  celebrated  surgeon,  of  Westminster. 

Returning  I  inclosed  the  reproachful  letter  and  tellhig  him 
that  if  afler  what  he  had  said  he  could  verily  the  imprudence 
with  which  be  charged  me,  I  begged  he  would  consider  our 
friendship  as  at  an  end.  It  would  be  great  injustice  not  to 
say  that  he  very  frankly  acknowledged  the  error  into  which 
he  had  fallen,  by  having  listened  too  credulously  to  a  report 
which  he  had  received  from  a  mutual  friend.  It  would  be 
too  much  in  the  professional  style  of  a  novelist  to  paint  the 
effects  of  the  scene  his  letter  produced,  for  I  could  not  disguise 
to  myself  that,  however  appearances  might  in  future  be  pre- 
served, the  confidence  of  an  early  friendship  was  no  more.— 
I  therefore  will  not  attempt  to  describe  with  what  emotion  I 
embodied  the  feelings  of  the  moment  in  the  following  verses, 
but  I  felt  upon  me  the  heavy  hand  of  misfortune  to  which  only 
I  reluctantly  acknowledged  disease  superior. 


'0 


JOHN  OALT.  167 

EPIGRAM. 

'    1  If  *tis  old  age  to'niope  alone, 

Fortune,  hope,  health,  and  friendahip  gone, 
Returned  Troin  viewing  manjr  a  clime, 
And  reading  but  to  kill  the  tiiae. 
With  wat'ry  eye,  and  bosom  cold. 
Friends,  that  weie  mine,— am  1  not  old  1 

It  happened  soon  after,  that  Prince  K— ^cameto  London, 
attended  by  a  nephew  of  the  famous  Prince  P  and  a  Mr. 
C        ,both  very  agreeable  pers()n8.    P  was  in  indiffer- 

ent health,  but  he  occasionally  elanced  gleams  of  mind  very 
brilliant  With  the  Prince  I  was  constantly  engaged.  He 
was  indefatigable  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  when  able 
to  go  about,  I  did  all  in  my  power  to  assist  him.  An  anecdote 
deserves  to  be  preserved.  One  day  when  going  down  St. 
Jameses  Street,  he  remarked  a  pair  of  those  zigzag  kind  of  scic^ 
sars  in  a  cutler's  window,  and  inquired  what  they  were.  1 
eould  give  him  no  explanation,  so  we  went  into  the  shop  to- 
gether, and  the  man  explained  their  use.  When  we  returned 
into  the  street,  the  Prince  observed  that  trifling  as  the  incident 
was,  it  gave  him  a  clearer  idea  of  the  wealth  and  luxuries 
of  England  than  any  thing  he  had  yet  seen. — '*  Here,"  said  he 
**  is  an  article  of  refined  luxury,  the  uses  of  which  a  person 
of  my  rank  never  heard  of.  How  many  things  may  your  na- 
tion  spare,  before  you  can  be  brought  so  low  as  the  level  of 
the  continent !" 

I  introduced  his  highness  to  Lord  Byron,  and  we  went  with 
his  lordship  to  the  Royal  Institution,  when  Campbell  delivered 
that  lecture  on  poetry  in  which  he  describes  the  ship,  and 
quotes  an  often  repeated  passage  of  Akenside*s  **  Pleasures 
of  the  Imagination."  A  great  crowd  ^being  at  the  door  and 
on  the  stairs  when  we  came  out,  the  Pi^ince  stepped  into  one 
of  the  libraries,  and  calling  for  Akenside's  volume,  read  the 
passage  twice  over  which  Campbell  had  repeated,  and  turning 
round  met  a  nobleman,  whose  title  I  have  forgot,  and  repeated 
to  him  by  heart  his  newly  acquired  quotation  of  fully  a  page. 

During  this  visit  to  England,  he  happened  to  be  at  Lady 
H  's  assembly  when  Lady  Caroline  Lamb  attempted 


41 


168 


THK  AVTOBIOORAPHY  OF 


her  mock  tragedy  with  a  jelly-glass  or  scissors,  for  the  con- 
tumely of  Lord  Byron.  Next  morning  the  Prince  told  me 
with  much  laughter  the  whole  affair,  and  that  he  was  speaking 

at  the  time  to  Lord  P .    But  the  poor  woman  was  surely 

mad.    I  do  not  think  the  sympathy  for  her  was  very  ardent 

While  his  highness  was  engaged  on  a  tour  in  the  country,  I 
was  married.  The  ceremony  took  place  on  a  Tuesday,  but 
on  the  Saturday  before,  I  met  with  a  most  amusing  adventure. 

Still  staying  at  the  Craven  Hotel,  who  should  visit  mc  but 
the  famous  Mrs.  Clarke,  in  her  carriage.  I  spoke  to  her 
laughingly, and  she  said  that  she  had  come  from  no  less  a  per-' 
sonage  than  Mr.  Cadell,  the  bookseller  in  the  Strand,  where 
she  had  been  for  my  address;  and  though  she  declined  to 
write,  she  invited  me  to  call  on  Sunday,  as  she  had  something 
very  particular  to  say.  What  Mrs.  Clarke  could  have  to  say, 
tickled  my  imagination,  and  I  promised  to  come.  She  lived 
then  in  a  street  off  Baker  Street  or  Gloucester  Place,  and 
upon  going  to  the  house,  the  footman  ushered  me  into  the  din- 
ing-room, where  a  gentleman  was  standing  alone  with  his  hat 
on.  Presently  he  went  away,  and  the  servant,  who  had  taken 
my  name  up  stairs  to  his  mistress,  conducted  me  into  the  back 
drawing-room,  where  she  was  sitting  with  her  two  daughters, 
who  immediately  left  the  apartment. 

She  then  told  me  that  she  had  been  induced  to  call  upon  me 
in  consequence  of  hearing  that  my  Life  of  Cardinal  Wolsey 
was  dreadfully  abused  by  Mr.  Croker  in  the  Quarterly  Review 
and  she  thought  I  would  be  glad  to  be  revenged.  I  only  re- 
peat what  she  said,  never  troubling  myself  with  thinking  whe- 
ther .her  intelligence  was  false  or  true;  but  after  telling  me 
this,  she  gave  one  of  her  knowing  smiles,  and  said  she  was 
surprised  to  see  me  so  young  a  man,  and  so  dressed,  for  she 
understood  I  was  an  old  Scotch  clergyman. 


..«-S4^i»- 


SKUBH  G&LT. 


I6d 


CHAPTER  IV. 

interview  toitk  Mrs.  Clarke.  Ptrute  her  paper*.  AdvUt 
her  to  suppress  her  publication.  Some  accoutU  of  ?ter. 
Her  separation,  from  the  Duke  of  York, 

Mes.  Clarke  then  inquired  if  I  had  noticed  the  gentleman  in 
the  parlour.    The  reply  was,  "not  particularly." 

"I  wish  you  had,'*  remarked  she. 

"Why]"  said  L 

'^♦Had  he  his  hat  on  T 

**Yes;  why  do  you  ask  these  questional" 

t*  Because,"  replied  she,  "it  was  Sir  Charles  Stewart,  (now 
Marquis  of  Londonderry,)  and  since  I  once  happened  to  say 
to  him  that  he  looked  better  and  younger  with  his  hat  on,  he 
constantly  wears  it  in  my  house." 

After  this  skirmishings  seeing  that  1  was  not  for  her  purpose, 
she  told  me  that  she  had  been  advised  to  consult  me  about  a 
publication  of  her  life.  "  Oh,  ho !"  thought  I,  "this  m  an  ef- 
fect of  Croker's  criticism,"  and  )  determined,  in  consequence, 
to  use  all  my  address  to  get  possession  of  her  secrets ;  so  I  told 
her,  point  blank,  she  was  in  want  of  money,  and  that  this 
was  an  expedient  to  raise  the  wind.  She  confessed  the  truth, 
and  also  that  Lord  C-r had  paid  her  debts  of  seven  thou- 
sand pounds,  and  given  her  an  annuity  of  foar  hundred  a  year, 
not  to  molest  the  Duke  of  York.  To  this  I  replied,  that  I 
could  give  her  no  advice,  unless  she  allowed  me  to  see  all  her 
papers.  She  consented ;  and  laying  an  armful  on  the  table, 
left  me  to  peruse  them. 

My  visit  lasted  upwards  of  six  hours,  in  which  I  read  over 
the  papers ;  and  it  will  be  readily  credited  they  were  fit  for 
any  thing  but  the  public  eye.  When  she  returned  to  me,  after 
the  perusal,  I  told  her  at  once  that  the  publication  she  intend- 
ed was  disreputable,  and  that  her  best  way,  as  she  had  too 

P 


170 


THK  AVTOBIOOBAPBT  OF 


much  in  her  power,  was  to  try  if  she  could  get  the  money  sh€f 
wanted  by  hook  or  crook  from  the  Duke  of  York,  for  the  pub* 
lication  must  not  go  on.  This  led  us  to  speak  of  the  letters 
which  were  published  when  the  parliamentary  inyestigation 

took  place ;  and  she  affirmed  that  Mr.  G ,  so  well  known 

as  the  Duke's  friend,  had  purloined  the  famous  epistle  about 
the  old  queen.  She  also  mentioned  some  diverting  anecdotes 
of  others. — ^I  asked  what  had  become  of  Colonel  Wardle. — 
Her  reply  was  characteristic  and  amusing: — *^Oh  !'*  said  she, 
"  the  wretch  has  taken  to  selling  milk  in  Tunbridge,  or  at 
Tunbridge  Wells."* 

I  could  not  at  the  time  give  much  heed  to  her  affairs,  but 
I  advised  her  strongly  to  suppress  the  book,  and  get  what 
money  she  wanted  in  any  other  expedient  way.  The  result 
was  the  suppression  of  her  memoiris;  afterwards,  if  I  recol- 
lect right,  she  went  to  some  watering  place,  and  subsequent- 
ly fibroad.  What  became  of  her  I  nev-er  well  heard,  but 
she  went  to  Italy;  and  one  of  hereon  mots  on  the  society 
in  the  town  where  she  staid,  was  reported  to  me  as  a  good 
thing,  by  an  old  friend,  namely  that  she  did  not  think  fit  to 
associate  with  the  inhabitants  on  account  of  the  laxity  of 
their  morahl 

It  may  be  expected  that  I  should  give  some  account  of  this 
celebrated  woman,  nor  am  I  disinclined,  for  my  recollection 
of  her  is  very  vivid. 

She  had  certainly  no  pretensions  whatever  to  beauty,  though 
there  was  a  life  and  intellectuality  in  her  eyes  sparklingly 
airreeable.    She  dressed  with  what  I  would  call  much  taste 

remarkably  neat,  plain,  and  clean;  and  generally  with  a  bare 

head.  Her  hair  was  almost  black.  She  possessed  great  pow- 
ers of  conversation,  was  often  witty,  and  suddenly  surprised 
you  witK  flashes  of  shrewdness  seldom  seen  in  woman.    Her 

*  To  many  or  our  i(>ader8  these  allusions  may  not  be  Readily  understood. 
We  would  therefore  btietly  8tate,thatin  1809  Colonel  Wardle,  a  member,  in 
the  lK>uao  of  Commons  charged  the  Dulce  of  York  with  hnvine,  as  commander 
in  chief  of  tlie  British  Army,  sutfeied  a  female  favorite  (Mrs.  Clarl<e)  to 
irafllc  in  commiseions,  and  to  sell  tbein  to  unworthy  persons,  and  also  to  ob- 
Tnln  promotion  for  her  friends,  who  had  previously  pnrcliased  her  pood  officer. 
The  dulte,  though  not  believed  by  the  bouse  to  be  personally  implicaied  in 
tUeae  corruptions,  thought  proper  to  resign  his  post  on  tbt  occasion.--  FniTen 


VOHN  OALT. 


m 


mind  was  decidedly  mascaline,  and  she  read  hoaikn  of  what 
maybe  called  the  male  kind.  But  it  was  not  by  know- 
ledge that  she  made  herself  agreeable.  On  the  contrary,  her 
general  conversatiou  had  very  few  literary  allusions;  her 
great  forte  lay  in  the  discernment  of  character,  and  in  strip 
ping  pretensions.  She  told  me,  that  during  her  examinations 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  with  all  the  apparent  presence  of 
mind  she  was  supposed  to  evince,  she  was  very  much  agita- 
ted. 

The  scene  she  described  of  her  separation  from  the  Duke 
was  exceedingly  graphic. — The  first  that  she  heard  of  his 
intention  not  to  come  again,  was  delivered  to  her  by  a  gen- 
tleman whose  name  I  shall  not  repeat,  because  I  am  not  sure 
of  being  correct  He  came,  however,  to  her  in  a  hackney- 
coach,  which  he  left  standing  for  him  at  the  door. — When 
shewn  up  into  the  front  drawing-room  she  was  sitting  near 
the  window,  and  he  immediately  began  to  deliver  his  com- 
mission. She  was  at  first  astonished,  for  there  had  been 
no  quarrel  with  the  Duke.  She  then  reflected  on  having  a 
large  establishment  of  servants  and  no  money;  but  she  be- 
gan, as  the  gentleman  proceeded,  to  feel  a  woman^s  scorn, 
and  when  he  had  completed  the  object  of  his  visit,  instead  of 
making  him  any  answer,  she  looked  out  at  the  window,  and 
observing  the  hackney-coach,  rose  and  rung  the  bell.  The 
butler  answered  it,  and  with  ail  the  gravity  that  she  could 
assume,  she  inquired:  "What  lew  person  has  dared  to 
come  to  my  house,  and  leave  his  hackneycoach  at  the  door? 
Send  it  away !" 

**  Madam,"  said  the  ambassador,  "  I  came  with  it,  and  it 
waits  me." 

"  For  you !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Clarke,  "then  instantly  get  out; 
lor  if  you  say  another  word  to  me,  I  will  order  the  footmen  to 
toss  you  in  a  blanket!"  She  was  by  this  time  in  a  boiling 
passion,  and  the  gentleman  immediately  withdrew. 

I  inquired  respecting  the  Duke's  character,  and  to  her  cred- 
it, she  spoke  of  him  witli  much  kindness  and  respect.  The 
wo  ^eatest  faults  she  could  lay  to  his  charge  were  a  cer- 


i 


■*  1 


172 


THE  AVTOBIOOBAPHT  OF 


tain  mauvaite  honte  that  made  him  averae  to  sirangers,  aad 
a  love  of  good  eatingr->AraDiig  other  things,  she  mentioned 
that  George  the  Third  made  a  rich  present  of  jewels  to 
the  Princess  of  Wale^»  which  Kundell  and  Bridge  sent  to 
the  house  one  Saturday  for  the  Duke  to  take  to  Windsor. — 
This  was  a  temptation  she  could  noi  resist.  Accordingly, 
ahe  decked  herself  with  the  royal  gems,  and  went  that  night 
with  them  to  the  Opera.  Next  morning  his  Royal  High« 
nesB  delivered  them  to  the  king  at  Windsor. 

At  this  distance  of  time,  I  do  not  recollect  a  tithe  of  the  an» 
ecdotes  she  told  me,  but  my  acquaintance  with  her  contin* 
ued,  and  some  of  her  stories  respecting  George  the  Fourth 
were  very  racy.  Of  the  Duchess  of  Yoik  she  always  spoke 
with  respect,  but  I  think  she  had  no  particular  anecdotes  to 
tell  of  her,  from  which  I  inferred  that  she  kpew  little  about 
her.  Towards  Colonel  M'Mahon  she  had  certainly  some- 
thing of  an  antipathy,  for  although  she  spoke  of  him  with  bit- 
terness, I  could  never  recollect  any  particular  story  which 
she  related  to  his  disadvantage.  The  fact  is,  that  Mrs.  Clarke 
did  not  possess  that  extraordinary  fiiscination  which  posterity 
may  suppose  from  the  incidents  in  which  she  was  engaged, 
but  she  was  undoubtedly  clever,  with  a  degree  of  tact  that 
either  in  man  or  woman  would  have  been  singularly  acute.. 


j'» 


lOHir  «ALT. 


173 


CHAPTER  V. 

Death  of  my  brother.    A  legacy.  A  lawsuit.    Hastening  on 
the  end  of  the  world. 

Soon  after  my  marriage,  at  leaet  there  was  no  influential 
incident  between,  I  was  visited  with  a  great  misfortune  in 
the  death  of  my  brother.  The  intelligence  came  unexpected- 
ly, and  there  was  no  mjtigation  to  the  stroke,  unless  it  could 
be  described  as  such,  that  having  resolved  to  be  no  longer  an 
adventurer,  but  to  endeavour  to  confine  myself  to  a  very  se- 
questered lot,  it  did  not  occasion,  as  it  might  have  done,  any 
pecuniary  inconvenience. — This  is  necessary  to  be  stated,  be- 
cause the  course  of  proceeding  adopted  towards  his  efiecta 
did  credit  to  my  father's  goodness  of  lieart,  and  I  venture 
to  think  no  dis])aragement  to  mine. 

By  the  event  of  the  death  taking  place  in  a  colony,  the  old 
gentleman  was  the  heir,  but  there  were  circumstances  at  that 
time  which  rendered  him  delicate  in  his  proceedings  towards 

Mr.  R ,  who  had  been  so  friendly  in  the  crisis  of  his 

sons,  and,  in  consequence,  if  he  ever  caused  any  investiga- 
tion of  my  brother's  affairs  to  be  made,  it  is  more  than  I  knew, 
or  have  since  heard  of,  or  have  any  reason  to  believe.  I  on- 
ly state  the  fact,  with  a  comment  which  I  feel  justified  in  mak- 
ing, that  this  course  was  adopted  from  motives  of  gratitude,  not- 
withstanding the  importance  at  that  time  of  any  addition  to 
tlie  narrow  means  of  the  family. 

It  is  no  doubt  true,  that  in  the  loss  of  a  very  promising  young 
man  there  was  quite  enough  to  grieve  for,  without  any  pecu- 
niary consideration  ;  but  still  1  do  think  that  the  transaction 
was  exemplary,  and  I  record  it  as  an  instance  of  the  confi- 
dence and  kind  of  feeling  which  in  the  family  wo  were  taught 
to  cherish  ;  nor  was  it  solitary,  but  a  link  in  a  sei-ies  whic!i 
has  never  been  broken,  and  which  has  recently  proved  as 
strong  as  ever.    In  the  latter  occurrence  alluded  to,  as  I  had 

r  2 


174 


mi  AOTOMOOBAPHT  Or 


no  part,  it  would  be  irrelevant  to  apeak  here ;  bat  there  waa 
an  early  tranaaction  which,  though  ludicroua,  waa  pregnant 
with  a  aerioua  leaaon,  and  which  ariaea  freah  on  my  recollec- 
tion, tending  to  ahew  how  my  iather*8  children  were  taught 
to  regard  mattera  of  money  aa  aecondary  thiioga. 

Some  diatant  relation  of  my  mother  died,  leaving  such 
aort  of  chattels  and  **  hainings**  aa  might  be  expected  to  her 
kin.  Aa  my  mother  had  a  salutary  abhorrence  to  bugs,  she 
verbally  gave  her  share  to  my  aunt,  who  went  to  law  with 
aome  of  the  other  relaticms,  in  which  she  came  off  victorious ; 
or,  as  she  announced  in  her  letter  to  me  on  the  occasion,  by 
**  overcoming  principalities  and  powers,"  she  not  only  estab- 
lished her  right  to  a  larger  portion  of  the  furniture,  but  to  a 
ahare  of  what  in  Scotland  is  called  **  Uie  lying  siller." 

On  hearing  that  there  was  money  in  the  case,  my  mother, 
in  her  droll  peculiar  way,  began  to  insinuate  that  she  had 
never  given  the  money,  but  only  consented  not  to  take  the  fur- 
niture ;  a  sinister  pretension  that  set  all  the  children  up  in 
arms  against  her,  and  my  lather  taking  part  in  the  argument, 
we  iairly  got  the  better  of  her:  the  f  ifl  was  fully  confirmed* 
with  exultation,  every  one  rejoicing  laat  we  had  WOTstedthe 
old  lady,  which  was  not  easily  done,  for  her  shifts  in  difficul- 
ty were  quite  extraordinary. 

Once,  not  long  before  her  death,  when  I  happened  to  be 
at  home  on  a  visit,  she  made  a  long  complaint  to  me  of  my  8is> 
ter,  who  was  in  poor 'health,  running,  like  more  of  the  family, 
after  public  societies ;  among  other  indiscretions,  she  had  be- 
come secretary  to  a  ladies*  branch  of  a  society  for  converting 
the  Jews.  At  this  moment  my  sister  came  into  the  room,  and 
endeavoured  to  justify  the  proceeding ;  but  the  old  lady  put 
an  end  to  tlie  altercation  by  attacking  the  society  itself.  "  A 
society,"  said  she,  '*  for  converting  the  Jews !  it's  dreadful 
to  think — a  hastening  on  of  the  end  of  the  world." 

I  must  not,  however,  continue  these  domestic  stories,  even 
though  they  naturally  rise  from  the  remembrance  of  circum- 
stances connected  with  what  to  me  was  an  important  event 
I  say  important,  not  fbr  its  visible  results,  but  for  tiiat  cold  vs* 


JOHN  OALT. 


175 


eancy  which  it  hu  ever  since  left  in  my  bosom.  The  death 
of  a  friend  is  at  all  times  an  aflBicti<m  which  cannot  be  thought 
of  without  sorrow ;  but  a  peculiar  anguish  barbs  the  grief  for 
a  brother  that  you  had  been  taught  to  love  from  his  birth, 
and  whose  qualities  in  riper  years  you  could  not  but  esteem- 
even  in  old  age  you  remember  his  childhood.  Infirm  and  ail- 
ing as  I  am,  deprecating  death  with  art,  the  image  of  mine 
comes  back  with  hopes  now  withered :  with  him  they  bloomed. 


uo 


THE    A1JT0BI0«m.VFHY    OF 


CHAPTER  VI. 

BxeurBxon  to  France.  Stop  at  Rouen.  Paris.  Converta- 
zione.  Rnyal  performance  at  the  Theatre.  BrtuieU, — 
ILdlanJ.    The  Iinpjrial  Russian  Princes. 

At  the  first  restoration  of  Louis  XVIIF.  I  visited  the  conti- 
nent, actuated  by  a  wish  to  find  inducements  to  remain  there  ; 
the  public  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  motive,  especially  as  it 
was  an  abortive  scheme,  and  I  was  soon  led  to  forego  my 
intention,  nor  was  tho  journey  in  its  incidents  such  as  to  de- 
serve particular  commemoration. 

I  took  my  departure  with  another  gentleman  from  Brigh- 
ton for  Dieppe  immediately  afler  the  capitulation  of  Paris 
was  known  in  London,  but  instead  of  proceeding  direct  to 
the  capita],  I  stopped  two  days  at  Rouen,  chiefly  to  see 
the  state  of  the  cotton  manufactories  in  the  suburb  of  De- 
ville,  established  by  Mr.  Raul,  who  was  then  the  Sir  Robert 
Peel  of  France,  and  who  had  been  greatly  prosperous  under 
Buonaparte.  Having  particular  recommendations  to  that  gen- 
tleman, by  whom  I  was  kindly  received,  I  had  free  access  to 
inspect  all  the  works  which  the  French  deemed  so  wonder- 
ful, but  found  them,  afler  having  recently  seen  those  of  Glas- 
gow and  Manchester,  very  insignificant,  nor  was  there  any- 
thing in  the  antiquities  of  the  city  to  me  particularly  inter- 
esting. 

We  then  proceeded  to  Paris ;  but  there  also,  either  I  was 
not  in  a  humour  to  be  entertained  wil,h  sights,  or  those  I  did 
see  were  not  striking,  and  accordingly  I  viewed  the  curios- 
ities rather  as  a  duty  than  as  an  enjoyment.  There  were  to 
my  taste  too  many  military  shows,  and  a  constrained  civility 
exerted  by  the  inhabitants  that  could  not  be  concealed.  It  was, 
indeed,  as  the  old  women  say  in  Scotland,  a  judgment-like 
time; a  moral  chaos,  afiecting  enough  to  see,  but  not  pleasant. 


JOHM  OALT. 


177. 


I  one  day  dined  in  the  Palais  Royale  with  a  very  small  par- 
ty ;  but  it  was  striking  to  be  merely  accidental.  It  consisted 
of  a  gentleman  from  Canton,  anotlior  from  the  Crimea,  a  third 
from  St.  Petersburgb,  a  fourth  from  America,  and  two  British 
subjects,  all  of  whom  I  had  known  betbre. 

Having  letters  to  tlie  two  chief  Librarians,  they  did  me  the 
honour  to  invite  me  to  something  like  a  conversazione,  which 
woa  held  in  the  Royal  Library  ;  but  the  party  was  not  'bril- 
liant. One  incident,  however,  at  that  time,  was  certainly 
impressive. 

When  Louis  XVIIL  went  to  the  theatre  with  the  Duch- 
ess of  Angouleme  for  the  first  time,  the  play  was  one  of  the 
series  on  the  story  of  (Edipus ;  I  tbrget  which,  but  when 
the  old  man  on  the  stage  pathetically  addressed  Antigone,  the 
King  rose  and  embraced  the  Duchess.  No  doubt  there  was 
something  of  stage  effect  stu^lied  in  the  scene  in  the  royal  box, 
but  it  could  not  be  witnessed  without  emotion.  An  universal 
sob  was  heard  through  all  the  theatre  at  this  part  of  the  per- 
formance, and  I  acknowledge  myself  to  have  been  affected 
by  an  exhibition  extraordinary  in  its  circumstances  and  cal- 
culated to  be  profoundly  touching. 

From  Paris  we  proceeded  to  Brussels,  where  we  were 
persuaded  to  remain  several  days,  my  friend  having  fallen  in 
with  some  acquaintances.  Wc  then  went  forward  and  spent 
the  afternoon  with  tho  English  officers  in  garrison  in  the  cita< 
del  of  Antwerp,  and  thence  travelled  to  Holland.  On  the 
road  we  were  joined  by  my  particular  and  regretted  friend, 
the  late  General  Sir  David  Stewart  of  Garth.  The  circum- 
stance whioh  prevented  him  from  being  with  us  at  Amster-. 
dam  is  not  reoolleoted,  but  an  occurrence  took  place  at  the 
theatre  there,  which  is  as  deeply  impressed  on  me  as  the 
scene  of  Louis  XVIH,,  indeed  it  should  be  more  so,  and  I 
ought  to  cherish  the  remembrance  with  particular  satisfiiction* 

It  happened  that  the  two  young  imperial  princes  of  Rusi 
sia  attended  by  a  suite  of  veteran  officers,  came  into  tho 
theatre.  The  present  Emperor  Nicholas  and  the  Arch-duke 
Miohael  took  their  pUoes  in  the  stage  box,  aqd  i^t  the  di9« 


178 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  Of 


tance  of  the  second  from  it,  a  very  fine  old  gentleman  came 
in  and  sat  down  by  me.  We  entered  into  conversation,  and 
the  greatness  of  England  was  the  topic.  After  some  time  the 
stranger  rose  and  went  to  the  princes  and  returned  with  them, 
and  I  had  the  honour  of  a  long  interview,  in  which  the  pre- 
sent Emperor  took  a  more  distinguished  part  than  his  broth- 
er, but  they  both  struck  me  at  the  time  as  very  intelli- 
gent superior  lads,  particularly  the  Archduke  Nicholas? 
who  appeared  to  me  to  possess  one  of  the  most  gently  reg- 
ulated minds  I  had  ever  met  with.  The  nature  of  our  con- 
versation led  me  to  express  a  wish  that  he  would  go  to  Eng- 
land, and  his  reply  was,  I  think,  tor  his  situation,  appropriate, 
to  the  effect  that  it  might  be  a  pleasant  journey,  but  it  de- 
pended on  the  will  of  the  Emperor. 

In  this  interview  I  hod  constantly  in  remembrance  George 
TII.'s  visit  to  Dr.  Johnson,  and  conducted  myself  according- 
ly. The  princes  and  their  suite  being  in  plain  clothes  it  was, 
not  proper  particularly  to  recognize  them,  but  although  I 
did  know  them  I  stood  during  the  time  of  our  conversation> 
and  never  forgot  the  difference  of  our  ranks. — When  the 
Emperor  Nicholas  was  afterwards  in  London  I  met  him  at 
Cliaring  Cross,  and  he  seemed  by  his  look  as  if  he  recog- 
nized mn  ;  a  friend  was  with  me  who  noticed  the  circumstance 
likewise.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  enumerate  the  different 
d  stinguished  persons  I  have  chanced  to  fall  in  with  during 
the  course  of  my  life,  I  only  make  an  exception  in  this  in- 
stance because  I  was  unknown  to  the  parties,  and  yet  there 
was  something  like  an  implied  compliment  in  the  interview. 


V'l, 


'■:iir 


■^^1      ..*_!       fn7,^ 


'.'?^fe'  V 


i^     y      •      ■" 


tf-'     "   . 


1        'T-V. 


aOlUf  GALT.  c 


17» 


ncame 
Dn,  and 
me  the 
h  them, 
the  pre- 
is  broth- 
intelli- 
Hcholas) 
itly  reg- 
)ur  con- 
to  Eng- 
ropriate, 
lut  it  de- 

B  George 
scording- 
s  it  was, 
[hough  I 
rersationt 
'^hen  the 
t  him  at 
e  recog- 
iimstance 
diiFerent 
during 
this  in- 
ject there 
nterview. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Talk  of  a  third  theatre.  A  tragic  event.  The  rejected 
Theatre.  New  British  Theatre.  Performance  of  the  Ap- 
peal.    Sir  Walter  Scott's  play. 

About  the  year  1813  and  14  there  was  a  great  talk  among  the 
play  goers  anent  the  propriety  of  establishing  a  third  theatre 
in  London,  in  which  the  representations  should  be  more  clas- 
sically conducted  than  the  shows  and  pageants  which  had 
usurped  the  place  of  the  regular  drama.  The  inferiority  of 
the  performances  wao  universally  admitted,  and  imputations 
of  blame  on  the  taste  of  the  managers  were  very  generally 
repeated.  Like  others  I  was  tainted  with  this  heresy,  and 
with  some  apparent  reason ;  it  was  said  that  no  attention  was 
paid  to  the  merits  of  rejected  dramas,  and  certainly  it  was 
as  difficult  to  obtain  a  proper  hearing  of  a  piece  as  to  procure 
a  place  under  government,  without  interest. 

In  acceding  to  the  prevalent  notion,  I  had  some  experience 
of  the  fact  myself  respecting  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  candid 
hearing  of  a  new  piece,  because  being  now  more  inclined  to 
the  quiet  cultivation  of  literature  than  formerly,  I  had  offered 
to  both  theatres,  the  tragedy  of  "  The  Witness,"  and  it  was 
returned  to  me  with  a  rejection,  although  the  state  of  the 
manuscript  gave  me  reason  to  believe  that  but  little  of  it 
was  read.     As  the  piece  had  some  novelty  of  conception  in 
the  principal    character,    and    occasional   flakes  of  poetry 
strewed  m  the  dialogue,  I  thought  this  treatment,  which    the 
clamour  for  a  third  theatre  seconded,  very  unworthy,  and  ac- 
cordingly waited  on  Mr.  Colburn  and  proposed  to  conduct  a 
monthly  periodical  to  consist  entirely  of  rejected  dramas,  and 
to  be  called  the  rejected  Theatre. 

He  being  infected  with  the  prevailing  epidemic,  adopted 
the  suggestion,  and  I  in  consequence  prepared  my  Witness 


180 


THE  AUTOmOGRAPRT  OP 


and  other  dramas  for  publication ;  believing  from  the  gene* 
ral  rumour,  that  there  would  be  no  lack  of  brilliant  material! 
to  attract  attention  to  the  work. 

The  first  number  was  successful ;  it  ran  through  two  ed^• 
tions  in  the  course  of  a  few  days ;  but  although  the  tragedy 
was  much  praised  in  the  weekly  papers,  I  was  not  blind  to  the 
fact,  that  the  success  was  more  owing  to  public  curiosity  than* 
perhaps,  to  tlie  poetical  merits  of  the  piece. 

In  the  second  number  there  was  evidently  a  falling  off  in 
the  interest  taken  in  the  publication,  and  Mr.  Colburn  propo- 
sed, that  instead  of  the  Rejected  Theatre,  the  work  should 
in  future  be  called  the  New  British  Theatre  by  which  new 
pieces,  not  offered  to  the  play«houses,  might  be  inserted,  and 
the  blushes  of  those  who  were  authors  of  rejected  pieces 
veiled.  The  suggested  alteration  in  the  title  was  plausible, 
though  not  according  to  the  idea  upon  which  the  original 
work  was  projected.  However,  as  it  afiorded  to  myself  an 
opportunity  of  bringing  out  several  pieces  of  my  own,  I  ac- 
quiesced in  the  proposed  change,  and  if  one  may  judge  by  the 
character  of  the  contributions  afterwards,  it  was  really  judi- 
cious ;  for  it  would  absolutely  not  be  within  the  range  of  be- 
lief to  describe  the  sad  efforts  of  genius  which  were  after- 
wards sent  to  me. 

The  New  British  Theatre  contains  the  best  selection  that 
could  be  made ;  and  supposing  what  passed  under  ray  eye  to 
be  a  fair  specimen  of  the  unknown  dramatic  talent  of  the 
age,  I  have  no  hesitation  whatever  in  stating  that  the  mana- 
gers were  completely  vindicated  in  alleging  that  the  decay 
of  the  drama  was  not  ownig  to  them,  but  to  the  wretched 
productions  they  were  compelled  to  bring  forward.  No  doubt 
they  were  partly  correct,  but  still  they  were  not  justified 
in  pronouncing  a  veto  on  any  piece  unperuscd.  I  say  not  this 
in  spleen,  for  I  am  well  aware  that  every  dramatist  believes 
himself  to  be  a  little,  not  much,  superior  to  Shakspeare ;  I 
freely  confess,  however,  that  I  did  think  my  own  lucubration 
deserving  of  a  better  fate,  because  it  was  afterwards  per- 
formed as  "  The  Appeal"  several  times  in  Edinburgh,  once  in 


^^ 


JOHN  OALT. 


181 


my  own  presence  at  Greenock,  many  timed,  under  the  name 
ot  "  The  Force  of  Conscience,"  at  the  Surrey  Theatre,  and 
was  even  holioured  by  some  country  strollers  with  a  dread- 
ful exhibition  in  a  barn.  For  as  I  deem  the  performance  of  a 
tune  on  a  street  or^n  to  lie  the  criterion  of  popularity  in 
music,  so  I  hold  a  dramatic  representation  in  a  barn  to  be  the 
ultimate  appeal  to  the  taste  and  judgment  of  a  discerning 
public. 

But  though  this  is  said  in  melancholy  mirth  I  yet  contend 
that  my  bantling  was  very  ill-used  ;  many  persons  who  stand 
in  matters  of  taste  well  with  the  public,  would  have  given  it 
a  good  character.  To  be  sure  there  has  been  one  thing  ve- 
ry equivocal  about  it.  When  it  was  performed  at  Edinburgh, 
the  prologue,  as  I  have  since  ""understood  very  lately,  was  a 
joint  production  of  Mr.  Lockhart,  and  Captain  Hamilton,  the 
author  ofCyrirj'hornton,  who,  with  the  diffidence  that  belongs 
to  all  parents  of  surreptitious  gets,  fathered  it  on  Professor 
Wilson,  according  to  the  then  notorious  maxims  of  mystifica- 
tion peculiar  to  the  "  veiled  assassins"  of  Blackwood.  Tl^ 
epilogue  was  written  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  is  not  only  ve- 
ry beautiful,  but  the  only  piece  of  humorous  poetry  which, 
as  far  as  I  am  aware  of,  ever  flowed  from  his  pen :  he 
wrote  me  not  to  mention  the  circumstance,  as  he  would  be 
pestered  with  applications;  perhaps  some  of  my  critical 
friends  may  say  that  he  was  ashamed  of  being  accessary  to 
the  perpetration  of  such  an  outrage  as  the  performance  of  a 
piece  which  the  two  grand  London  houses  had  rejected.  But 
the  Baronet  was  a  fellow-sufferer,  for  the  sapient  managers  of 
Covent  Garden,  at  which  the  late  Mr.  Terry  was  then  acting, 
could  not  think  of  risking  the  representation  of  such  a  piece 
as  "the  Legend  of  Aspen,"  for  that  I  believe  was  its  first  name. 
Long  after,  it  was  published  in  one  of  the  Annuals,  The 
Keepsake,  and  contains  a  scene  worth  fifty  pieces  of  Fanny 
Kemble's  patch-work,  with  all  her  samples  to  boot. 

Seeing  by  the  nature  of  the  contributions  to  the  New  Brit- 
ish Theatre,  that  it  must  be  a  failure,  I  cut  and  run  :  in  fact, 
there  was  not  one  drama  remaining  unpublished  of  all  the  de- 

Q 


in 


THB  AVTOBIOORAPHT  Of 


plonble  progeny  that  solicited  admission  into  the  almshouse. 

But  in  sobriety  I  must  say  that  if  any  opinion  might  be 
formed  of  the  pieces  actually  rejected  by  Drury  Lane  and 
Covent  Garden  from  those  offered  to  me,  it  is  no  wonder  that 
the  theatres  are  ruined.  It  is  not  in  jocularity  I  state  this,  and 
I  know  not  how  dramatic  talent  is  to  be  revived ;  perhaps  its 
excellence  belongs  to  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  a  language, 
a  semi-barbarous  period,  which  has  gone  past  with  us  never 
to  be  recalled,  like  the  beauty  of  the  teedi  and  ringlets  of 
those  elderly  gentlewomen,  who  are  tottering  in  desperation 
to  hide  their  fidse  locks  and  irreparable  fiices  in  oblivion  and 
the  grave. 


^:^: 


cbs^ 


X 


*.ft 


.'*-' 


'  t&^m- 


JOHN  OALT. 


18S 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

Hector-a  cento  in  the  New  British  Theatre. 

The  New  British  Theatre,  however,  cohtains  one  drama,  the 
neglect  of  which,  does  anything  but  reflect  honour  on  the 
taste  of  the  age.  Not  having  a  copy  of  the  work  I  had  almost 
forgot  it.  The  piece  of  which  I  speak,is  a  cento  from  the  Iliad, 
compiled  from  the  translations  of  Pope  and  Cowper,  and  is 
without  question  an  elegant  and  impressive  tragedy.  I  had 
no  interest  in  it  besides  patching  it  together,  but  it  is  at  least 
equal  in  the  beauty  of  versification,  to  any  drama  in  the  Eng- 
lish language.  My  only  claim  to  participate  in  the  produc- 
tion, is  in  changing  the  rhymes  of  Pope  to  blank  verse. 

This  tQtal  neglect:  is  truly  inconceivable,  but  its  rate  re* 
minds  me  of  the  story  of  the  Roman  actor. 

Once  a  player  acquired  great  fame  at  Rome  for  his  ex- 
traordinary mimickry  of  the  squeaking  of  a  pig.  One  of  the 
auditors  stimulated  by  the  applause,  said  he  would  let  them 
hear  something  much  better  on  a  certain  day,  and  invited 
them  to  come,  which, they  accordingly  did,  but  when  the  actor 
appeared  wrapt  in  a  mantle,  the  audience  outrageously  hissed 
him  for  presumptuously  attempting  to  rival  the  other. — 
**  What  judges  you  are  of  pigs*  squeaking !"  cried  he,  throw- 
ing his  cloak  aside,  and  showing  a  real  animal  whose  ear  be 
had  secretly  pinched. 

But  I  claim  no  privilege  to  be  severe  on  the  taste  of  "  the 
swinish  multitude,"  for  I  have  been  myself  always  too  indiflfer- 
ent  a  judge  of  what  is  likely  to  please  the  world  in  books.  If 
I  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  at  any  time,  it  is  purely  accidental, 
for  I  ever  see  the  productions  of  friends  through  the  medium 
of  friendship,  and  those  of  strangers  with  great  indifierence 
unless  indeed  they  chance  to  please,  which,  for  the  sake  of  the 
world,  I  am  sorry  to  say  is  not  often  the  case ;  I  would  rather 


184 


THE   ACrrOBIOORAPHY  OF 


act,  as  a  relation  of  mine  did  as  a  referee,  than  the  judge  af- 
terwards appealed  to.  tie'ing  called  to  decide  which  two  of 
the  same  degree  of  kin  was  the  right  heir,  awarded  a  moiety 
of  the  inheritance  to  each ;  a  decision  which  gave  no  satisfac- 
tion, for  the  younger  of  the  two  cried  out,  that  they  could  not 
be  both  alike  in  their  pretensions,  and  so  to  settle  the  business 
they  went  to  law:  and  the  judge  found  the  one  who  would  have 
aaeented  to  the  award  entitled  of  course  to  the  whole.  I 
would  rather  adjudicate  to  the  extent  of  the  half  of  what 
might  be  morally  wrong,  than  run  the  risk  of  giving  an 
award  for  the  whole,  which  might  afflict, being  legally  right: 
or,  to  speak  to  the  point,  I  am  much  of  the  late  Lord  Brax- 
field's  disposition,  as  evinced  in  his  reply  to  an  advocate,  who, 
in  speaking  of  the  excellence  of  the  judges  whom  Cromwell 
sent  to  Eldinburgh,  said  that  the  justice  of  their  awards  bad 
never  been  called  in  question.  "  De*il  mean  them  to  do  jus- 
tice,*' said  his  Lordship  from  the  bench,  "  they  had  neither 
kith  nor  kin  in  the  country.**  But  to  make  an  end,  conscious 
of  being  a  bad  critic,  my  opinion  of  a  book  is  worth  little;  for 
if  the  book  is  bad,  I  have  not  the  heart  to  tell  the  author  bo, 
and  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  good,  it  does  not  require  my  praise. 


«t. 


iff  H  , 
4 


II 


JOHN  OALT. 


185 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Caledbnuin  Asylum*    A  sordid  transaction.     Go  to  Chreen^ 
ocji*    Return  to  London, 

Hating  settled  myself  as  it  were  in  my  sphere,  I  sought  nothing 
but  an  even  tenor  in  my  ways.  In  this  situation,  I  undertook 
to  assist  in  raising  the  funds  which  werO  afterwards  employed 
in  building  and  endowing  the  National  Caledonian  Asylum, 
which  stands  a  little  to  the  north  of  Pentonville,  in  the  fields. 
In  this  business  nothing  was  more  gratifying  than  the  first 
labors,  but  their  enjoyment  was  gradually  diminished,  and 
particularly  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo;  to  me,  however, 
they  mustalways  be  interesting.  At  the  institutary  dinner,  one 
of  the  most  splendid  ever  given  in  London,  at  which  upwards 
of  seventy  musicians  were  employed,  and  above  two  hundred 
and  seventy  servants  in  livery  attended,  a  great  sum  was 
raised.  The  subscription  exceeded  five  thousand  pounds,  and 
the  annual  subecriptions  were  about  four  hundred.  The 
stewards*  fund  for  the  dinner  yielded  a  large  profit,  and  my 
friend,  Mr.  Hamilton,  who  tooic  charge  of  it,  was  highly  pleas- 
ed with  the  result.  I«know  not  now,  because  I  wish  to  for- 
get the  transaction,'  how  much  he  paid  in  of  the  surplus  of  tho 
stewards*  fund  to  the  hospital,  but  it  was  a  considerable  sum, 
not  less,  I  thinic,  than  six  hundred  pounds.  In  the  meantime, 
it  was  determined  to  publish  by  subscription  the  music  per- 
formed at  the  dinner.  As  it  was  curious,  we  supposed  it  would 
sell  well  at  a  guinea,  especially  as  some  of  the  songs  were  by 
the  first  poetical  characters  of  the  age.  And  the  members 
of  the  committee  and  directors  were  subscribers  to  the  publica- 
tion. 

Aa  secretary,  I  employed  Chappell,  the  musicHseller  in 
Bonct  street,  and  a  proper  composer  to  arrange  the  airs.-— 
From  awne  indolence,  as  I  conceived  it,  the  composer  was 

Q2 


;l 


tM 


THE  AVTOBIOOBAPHT  OV 


long  about  his  task,  and  more  than  twelve  noonths  elapsed  be* 
fore  the  publlcalion  wns  ready.  In  the  meantime  the  battle 
of  Waterloo  had  been  fought.  Men  had  ceased  to  think  of 
warlike  enterprizes,  and  the  subscribers  to  the  Caledonian 
Asylum  were  incorporated  by  act  of  parliament.  So  that 
Mr.  Chappell  had  only  his  claim  against  the  members  of  the 
committee.  The  directors  felt  the  altered  circumstanc'Ss,  and 
refused  to  recognize  the  debt,  which  amounted  to  two  hun- 
dred and  seventy  odd  pounds ;  on  the  pretext  that  I  had  no 
resolution  of  the  dinner  committee,  to  show  that  I  was,  as  se- 
cretary, authorized  by  it,  but  I  pointed  to  the  subscription 
paper. 

I  informed  Mr.  Chappell  of  the  dilemma,  and  he  was  advised 
by  his  lawyer  to  bring  an  action  again  the  Caledonian  Asylum 
for  the  amount  of  his  account.  It  was  clear  that,  after  the 
debt  had  been  contracted,  the  association  had  been  incorporat- 
ed, and  therefore  could  nut  be  legally  liable. — He  subpsBnaod 
me  as  a  witness,  butj  as  a  membur  of  the  committee,  I  might 
have  required  my  acquittal  of  the  debt,  befoi'e  I  gave  evidence 
yet  I  gave  my  testintony,  fully  aware  of  that  circumstance, 
and  it  was  decided  of  course  that  the  corporation  was  not  lia- 
ble.--Knowing  that  the  music  seller  had  no  chance  of  suc- 
ceeding against  the  committee,  immediately  after  the  trial, 
and  before  leaving  the  court,  I  told  him  that  it  he  would 
give  me  time  enough  I  would  assume  the  debt.  To  a  propo- 
sal of  this  kind  he  immediately  acceded,  and  T  afterwards 
paid  hirn  out  of  my  own  pocket.  I  have  never  since  looked 
near  the  Caledonian  Asylum,  except  once  to  sec  the  building; 
for  of  all  sordid  things  that  I  ever  knew,  it  has  appeared  to  me 
that  this  was  the  meanest.  But  the  times  were  altered  in 
which  the  project  originated,  peace  prevailed,  and  *•  Pharaoh 
knew  not  Joseph." 

After  the  first  blush  of  prosperity  with  the  Caladonian  Asy- 
lum was  over,  a  proposal  was  made  to  me  from  Glasgow,  to 
procure  a  Liondon  guarantee  for  shipments  to  Jamaica  destined 
for  the  Spanish  colonies.  The  proposition  was  exceedingly 
feasible,  and  my  old  friends  Messrs.  R- ,  I ,  and 


JOHN  OALT. 


Utf 


Co.  were  induced  to  grant  theirs.  Accordingly,  the  scheme 
was  matured,  but  before  it  was  carried  into  full  effect,  the 
revolt  of  the  Spanish  colonies  became  inevtiable ;  however,  1 
removed  to  the  neighbourhood  of  (ireenock  with  my  family, 
although  conscious  I  was  no  longer  fit  for  the  place,  and  of 
seeing  a  breaking  up  on  all  sides  of  the  system  on  which  the 
plan'  was  formed.  I  lived  a  sequestered  life  at  Finnart,  near 
the  town,  and  practised  as  much  as  possible  the  manners  I 
recollected  to  have  prevailed  in  the  place;  but  of  all  my  life, 
that  residence  at  Finnart  was  the  most  unsatisfactory. 

Convinced  that  the  scheme  would  end  in  smoke,  and  yet 
not  in  a  condition  to  communicate  the  apprehension  to  any 
one,  I  accepted  an  offer  made  by  the  Union  Canal  Company, 
to  go  to  London  to  attend  a  bill  fjr  them,  to  which  they  antici- 
pated a  strenuous  opposition;  and  being  once  more  in  the  me- 
tropolis, I  felt  no  inclination  to  return.  This  distaste  was  not 
occasioned  by  any  thing  that  I  had  met  with,  but  a  consci- 
ousness of  being  no  longer  the  same  sort  of  individual  that  I 
had  been  in  former  days;  for  I  received  every  attention  that 
eould  be  expected,  but  the  change. which  time  and  the  world 
had  made,  no  longer  rendered  me  susceptible  of  tho^e  gratifi- 
cations that  had  once  endeared  the  place  to  my  remembrance. 
It  wad  not  changed  in  any  aspectable  form,  but  my  tastes  had 
undergone  a  great  alteration;  I  had  become  much  more 
simple  in  my  habits,  and  secretly  "  fashed"  at  many  things  in 
which  the  tastes  of  an  earlier  period  might  have  found  plea- 
sure. 


■i] 


186 


nn    AIJTOBIOORAFBT  OF 


CHAPTER  X 

RefiectioM.  Agent  for  the  Canada  daimt  Correipondenct 
toi^h  the  Treasury.  Interview  at  Fife  House,  Arrange' 
ment.  Not  carried  into  effect.  Go  to  Scotland  Answer 
from  Canada.    Further  proceedings. 

In  the  course  of  my  chequered  life  I  have  often  met  with 
■udden  and  unexpected  turns  of  fortune,  such  as  the  religious 
call  interpositions  of  Providence,  in  so  much  that  I  have^com- 
paratively  felt  little  daunted  by  the  gloomiest  indications; 
indeed,  the  sentiment  awakened  by  the  dreadest  aspects  has 
been  ever  more  allied  to  provocation  than  fear,  and  I  have  aU 
ways  experienced  something  akin  to  what  is  advised  below : 

**  When  evil  falli,  and  you  see  all  its  Kope, 
Truit  to  the  native  courage  of  your  breast, 
And  mieh  auxiliar  aid  a«  fate  may  send, 
'  To  master  the  misfortune ;  trust  yourself, 

And  trust  your  destiny,  for  such  begets 
That  self-possession  which  endures  the  shock 
Of  rough  adversity,  and  lifts  the  man 
Above  the  waves  and  currents  of  the  time ; 
But  when  the  matter  hangs  in  dread,  and  may 
By  strength  or  enterpiisc  be  yet  repelled, 
Then  call  your  friends,  take  counsel,  and  take  aid." 

In  the  former  of  these  predicaments,  I  was  compelled  to 
throw  myself  on  fortune,  when  the.  most  unexpected  occur- 
rence gave  me  new  life. 

I  received  letters  from  Canada  appointing  me  agent  for  such 
of  the  principal  inhabitan^i  as  had  claims  to*  urge  for  losses 
during  the  invasion  of  the  province  by  the  armies  of  the  Uni- 
ted States.  Mr.  Ellice  (the  Right  Hon.  Edward  Ellice,  now 
Secretary  at  W^r,)  was  to  be  my  colleague ,  but  as  a  member 
of  the  House  of  Commons  ho  did  not  choose  to  act,  and  ano- 
ther gentleman,  retiring  from  businesSi  found  he  could  not. 
I  waf  thus  alone  in  the  business. 


JOHN  OiLT. 


180 


After  a  good  deal  of  verbal  communication  with  the  Colo- 
nial Office  1  was  referred  to  the  Treasury,  and  in  answer  to 
my  application  there,  received  a  very  dignified  evasion.  It 
was  couched  in  language  at  onco  guarded  and  appropriate* 
An  answer  to  this  letter,  seemed  indispensable,  though  it 
was  drawn  up  in  terms  evidently  intended  to  close  the  busi- 
ness. After  pondering  on  the  subject  for  some  time,  I  thought 
it  admitted  of  one  way  of  treatment. 

The  Lords  of  the  Treasury  had  evidently  not  rejected  the 
case,  and,  accordingly,  after  the  maturest  consideration,  I 
drew  up  an  answer,  in  which  I  was  not  bird-mouthed  m  using 
every  argument  that  could  at  all  be  employed,  even  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  colonists  becoming  rebels. 

This  impudent  or  magnanimous  epistle  brought  a  reply, 
in  which  Lord  Bexley  suggested  the  propriety  of  writing  to 
Lord  Liverpool  to  fix  a  time  for  an  interview,  when  Earl  Bath< 
urst  and  himself  would  be  present.  Accordingly  I  sent  a  note 
to  his  lordship,  and  an  early  day  was  fixed. 

"When  the  lime  arrived,  Mr.  Ellice  went  with  me  to  Fife 
House,  for  though  he  had  declined  to  act,  his  aid  and  advice 
were  most  efficient.  At  the  interview  it  was  agreed  that  a 
loan  should  be  raised  for  the  liquidation  of  part  of  the  claims, 
and  it  was  understood  that  I  was  to  raise  the  money.  A  dis- 
patch to  the  effect  of  this  arrangement  was  to  be  sent  by 
Earl  Bathurst  to  theLieutemnt-Governor  of  Upper  Canada, 
and  as  1  had  soon  occasion  to  go  to  i^cotland,  it  was  settled 
with  my  city  friends  to  have  the  money  forthcoming  when  on 
answer  would  be  received  from  the  province. 

When  the  answer  came,  stocks  had  fallen  to  about  seventy- 
four,  and  asihe  memorandum  of  the  interview  was  now  read, 
it  appeared  that  the  money  was  to  be  raised  at  five  percent. 
Without,  the  responsibility  of  the  United  Kingdom.  This 
was  ridiculous  to  attempt,  both  from  the  state  of  stocks  and 
the  unknown  condition  of  the  province  ;  however,  I  went  to 
Sir  Thomas  Reid*,  at  Ewell  and  got  from  him  a  letter  stating 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  raising  the  money  on  the  same 


i 


*  Of  the  bouse  of  Me  srs.  Reid,  Irving,  and  Co, 


190 


THI  AUTOMOOIAFRT  OV 


terms  ai  it  roigfht  have  been  done  before.  Thia  letter  I  atavo 
to  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton,  and  explained  my  belief  that  the  ar- 
rangement would  now  be  of  no  effect  He  then  propoaed  t 
new  one,  to  which  I  acceded,  and  the  buaineas  being  apparent- 
ly aettled,  I  went  to  Scotland,  where,  aoon  after  my  arrival,  I 
wrote  a  note  to  Mr.  Horton,  requesting  a  copy  of  the  dispatch 
sent  to  Canada.  This  in  the  course  of  a  poat  or  two  waa 
transmitted,  and  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  that  all  was  now 
adjusted. 

Being  sick  of  a  life  of  adventure,  and  having  before  me  on- 
ly the  education  of  my  children,  I  resolved  to  remain  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Edinburgh.  Without,  therefore,  troubling 
the  reader  with  details,  I  was  induced  to  fix  my  residence  near 
Musselburgh.  In  one  respect  I  considered  myself  extremely 
fori  unate.  The  house  and  grounds  were  not  large :  they  had 
belonged  to  the  late  Lord  Eskgrove.  The  battle  of  Pcnkie 
had  been  fought  on  the  spot,  and  Pinkie  house,  with  many 
agreeable  traditionary  objects  were  around  and  seen  from  the 
windows,  circumstances  highly  interesting  to  one  who  indul* 
ges  so  much  in  his  imagination.  The  neighbours  were  also 
very  social ;  and  altogether  it  presented  many  inducements 
to  entice  repose  to  one  who  had  suffered  painful  vicissitudes. 
Judge,  however,  of  my  astonishment,  when  the  answer  waa 
due  firom  Canada,  to  receive  from  my  correspondent  a  copy  of 
the  dispatch  from  Lord  Bathurst,  published  in  a  Gazette  £<• 
traordinary,  as  if  a  victory  had  boen  gained,  in  which  tho  ' 
whole  tranoacuion  was  erroneously  represented.  I  compared 
it  with  the  copy  sent  me,  and  in  that  copy  all  the  principal 
matter  of  the  dispatch  was  omitted.''' 

As  soon  as  possible  I  went  to  London,  where  I  found  Mr. 
Horton  on  the  point  of  going  to  Leamington.  The  interview 
took  place  at  his  own  houec,  in  Montague  Square,  where  I 
■hewed  him  the  Gazette  Extraordinary,  and  the  copy  of  the 

*  I  have  not  the  proleifled  copy  of  the  dispatch  which  was  tent  to  me,  but 
In  the  way  it  waa  written,  the  Hr  t  eleven  hnca  were  umitied,  and  the  whole 
of  thelaatparasraph;  I  cannot  th  refore  say  exnclly  now  in  whatthe  differ- 
eoM  oonaiated,  fbr  I  gave  back  the  original  paper,  but  a  copy  of  the  Gazette 
ia  in  the  Appeudix,aQd,  bj  Ar  sa  toy  recollection  goea,  the  omitted  parts  ars 
In  italics. 


iOBH  OAIT. 


101 


diipttch,  which  he  had  ordered  to  be  aent  to  me.  He  made 
noobpervation  on  the  aubject,  but  his  manner  betokened  how 
much  he  waa  aurpriaed  at  the  diacrepancy ;  ta  the  matter 
however  could  not  now  be  poatponed,  I  declered  my  intention 
not  to  return  to  Scotland  till  the  buainc.w  waa  aettl^. 

He  proceeded  to  Leamington  with  hia  family,  and  I  went 
to  him  by  the  coach. 

On  going  down,  I  met  there  with  Mr.  Robinaon,  then  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer,'*'  and  after  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Mor- 
ton aeveral  conferencea  reapecting  the  liquidatiun  of  the 
daima  were  held  together. 

Mr.Robinaon  expreaaed  it  aa  hii  opinion,  that  if  the  province 
of  Upper  Canada  would  undertake  to  pay  the  half  of  the  civil 
expenaea  of  the  province,  the  United  Kingdom  ahould  un- 
dertake tod  iacharge  the  claima.  An  arrangement  aubatantial- 
ly  to  thia  effect  waa  agreed  upon,  and  I  returned  home,  where, 
before  any  thing  could  be  carried  into  effect,  or  be  depended 
upon,  I  aaw  it  waa  neceaaary  to  inatitute  inquiriea  reapecting 
the  reaourcea  of  the  province,  for  which  time  waa  requiaite. 
I  accordingly  wrote  to  my  correapondent  on  the  aubject,  and 
though  tingling  with  vexaticm  at  the  abaurd  light  in  which  I 
had  been  ao  unaccountably  miarepreaented  in  the  diapatch, 
publiahed  in  the  Gazette  Extraordinary,  aaw  no  alternative  but 
only  to  aubmit  to  an  afflicting  mortification. 

*  Now  Earl  Godarich. 


r 


192 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  arrival  of  an  Indian  thief .  His  business.     The  Duke, 

of  Northumberland  interested  in  it.     He  sends  Colonel 

.  Talbot  to  the  Colonial  Office.  The  promise  of  the  busi- 
ness being  amicably  settled. 

Soon  after,  being"  appointed  agent  for  the  Canada  claimants, 
an  incident  occurred  which  has  never  ceased  to  amuse  me. 

An  Indian  chief  and  a  relation  of  his  were  deputed  by  the 
Six  Nation  Indians  to  London  to  procure  a  charter  for  the 
lands  received  from  the  British  Government,  in  lieu  of  those 
they  had  abandoned  after  the  American  war  of  independence. 

To  understand  the  state  of  the  question  between  these  In- 
dians and  the  British,  it  is  requisite  to  remark,  that  in  no  res- 
peel  whatever  did  they  owe  any  allegiance  to  our  g-overn- 
ment,  neither  as  inhabitants  of  a  soil  that  we  had  usurped  in 
the  usual  Christian  manner,  nor  as  subjects  of  a  country  we 
had  conquered  by  our  arms;  they  were  entirely  distinct 
from  us,  nor  owed  nor  acknowledged  obedience  to  our  laws. 

They  consisted  of  the  relics  and  the  children  of  the  Abor- 
igines who  inhabited  the  Mohawk  tract  in  the  state  of  New 
York,  and  who  left  it  at  the  close,  as  I  have  said,  of  the  Amer- 
ican war.  They  were  recompensed  for  their  services  to  the 
cause  of  George  III.  and  or  the  fidelity  of  their  alliance,  with 
what.was  deemed  an  equivalent,  in  a  tract  of  land  measuring' 
six  miles  on  e.jch  side  backwards  from  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Ouseto  its  source. 

By  the  acceptance  of  this  gift,  as  it  maybe  called  in  com- 
mon parlance,  they  did  not  conceive  that  they  had  comprom- 
ised their  national  independence,  but  only  that  in  abandoning 
their  native  haunts  for  a  new  region,  they  had  made  an  ex- 
change. •  I  believe  our  Government  of  the  day  thought  the 
same. 

Subsequently,  by  little  and  little,  the  British  authorities  for- 


JOHN   OALT. 


193 


got  the  principle  of  alliance)  or  confounded  it  with  that  of  al- 
legiance, until  the  Indians  came  to  be  regarded  (never  on 
their  part)  as  British  subjects:  doubtless  their  condition,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  philosophers  of  Europe,  may  have  been  there- 
by improved,  but  they  did  not  think  so  themselves. 

In  time,  however,  they  so  approximated  to  civilization,  as 
to  render  them  gradually  likely  to  come  under  the  British 
yoke,  and  in  consequence  it  was  thought  desirable  to  obtain 
a  charter  for  their  lands;  but,  in  total  oblivion  of  their  origin 
and  connexion,  we  treated  them  as  already  Btitish  subjects. 
It  is  true,  except  in  undermining  the  wild  liberties  of  their 
savage  state,  they  had  not  much  cause  of  complaint,  nor  did 
they  complain. 

It  is  impossible  to  conjecture  by  what  motive  the  British 
Government  was  actuated  in  the  refusal  of  the  charter;  it 
miofht  be  in  consideration  of  their  unfitness  to  come  under  the 
British  law,  or  from  the  difficulty  to  determine  to  whom  the 
charter  should  be  granted.  The  chief,  in  right  of  his  mother, 
seemed  to  be  the  proper  person,  for  his  father,  I  have  under- 
stood, was  only  a  war  chief,  and  that  the  children  inherited 
the  superiority  from  her.  The  people  were  not  exactly  ia 
a  feudal  way,  like  the  vassals  that  occupied  anciently,  for  ex- 
ample, the  domains  and  country  of  the  Duchess  of  ssuther- 
land,  but  were  in  something  after  the  manner  of  those  un- 
der the  law  of  tanistry  which  formerly  prevailed  in  Ireland. 
Be  this  however  as  it  may,  the  time  was  supposed  to  have  ar- 
rived when  a  charter  should  be  obtained,  as  a  preliminary  to 
brinofinsr  the  Indians  settled  at  the  Ouse  or  Grand  River  un- 
der  the  British  dominion. 

The  case  was  very  undefined  with  the  British  Govern- 
ment, which  was  falling  into  the  error  of  arrogating  to  itself 
a  supremacy  over  the  Six  Nations,  to  which  it  had  neither 
claim  nor  right. 

The  chief  who  brought  letters  to  me  was  John  Brant,  a 
son  of  the  famous  Brant  who  is  painted  with  such  inordi- 
nate colours  by  Campbell  in  his  Gertrude  of  Wyoming,  and  I 
was  in  consequence  induced  to  call  upon  him  and  his  frieuU 


m 


194 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


and  to  invite  them  to  my  house.  Brant  himself  was  very  in- 
teresting; a  full  blooded  Indian  by  descent,  ho  was  strikingly 
peculiar,  but  with  the  sedateness  of  his  race  he  united  uncom- 
mon mildness  of  manners. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  I  inquired  what  other  letters 
they  had  brought  with  them,  After  mentioning  several  city 
names  Brant  informed  me  that  he  had  one  for  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland,  whose  father  had  been  mucii  nttached  to  his, 
but  said  that  the  old  Duke  being  dead,  he  did  not  think  it 
would  be  worth  while  to  deliver  the  letter. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  I,  "I  do  not  know  the  young 
Duke's  character,  but  a  letter  to  him  should  have  been  deliv- 
ered first.  The  gentlemen  in  the  city  are  very  good,  but  they 
are  in  business  and  your  case  is  not  in  their  way, — -but 
what  progress  you  have  madel" 

He  then  told  me  none,  and  showed  me  a  parcel  of  official 
roundabouts  which  he  had  received  and  sent  to  Earl  Bathurst. 

I  could  not  give  hmi  advice  offhand  how  he  should  proceed, 
but  said,  "It  strikes  me  that  these  diplomatic  notes  will  never 
do;  they  are  foreign  to  your  business  and  to  your  character. 
I  will,  however,  think  of  your  case ;  in  the  mean  time  go  to 
the  Duke  of  Northumberland  with  your  letter;  he  will  receive 
you  very  well,  for  all  these  sort  of  people  are  very  agreeable 
in  their  manners,  but  observe  him  sharply  and  let  me  know 
what  you  in  your  Indian  way  think  of  him." 

Accordingly  that  same  day  Brant  and  his  companion  wait- 
ed on  the  Duke,  who  lived  at  that  time  in  the  white  house  in 
St.  James's  Sipjare  now  inhabited  by  my  friend  Mr.  Hudson 
Gurney.  The  report  to  me  of  their  reception  was  very 
guarded,  and  I  could  mJike  nothing  out  of  them,  hut  only  that 
they  were  pleased  and  that  his  (irace  had  asked  them  todinner. 

"This  looks  well,"  was  my  remark,  "you  will  go,  and  I 
beg  you  to  observe  him  strictly  and  really  to  lot  me  know  what 
you  think  of  him,  for  much  will  depend  on  that  report  as  to 
whether  I  may  be  aWe  to  be  of  any  use  to  you." 

On  the  morningafler  thedinnerl  called  on  ^em  early  to 
know  the  result.    Brant  eaid  little,  but  his  companion  spoke 


JOHN  GALT. 


Ids 


as  if  highly  pleased  with  the  duchess;  the  duke,  however,  it 
appeared  had  given  them  both  strong  assurances  of  exert- 
ing his  best  power  to  facilitate  their  mission,  and  Brant,  with 
the  emphatic  manner  of  an  Indian,  added  that  "his  Grace  was 
sincere."  It  would  not  be  easy  to  explain  his  metaphysics, 
but  he  had  evidently  entire  confidence  derived  from  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  Duke  had  spoken. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  something  can  be  done,  but  unless  you 
entirely  commit  your  case  to  me  and  implicitly  follow  my  ad- 
vice, I  can  be  of  little  use  to  you." 

Both  Brant  and  his  friend  then  assured  me  that  they  had 
determined  to  trust  me,  and  that  whatever  I  advised  to  be  done 
they  would  not  shrink  from  doing. 

This  was  a  compliment  that  inwardly  made  me  very  proud, 
and  I  requested  writing  materials.  I  well  remember  the 
occasion,  for  their  breakfast-table  was  not  cleared.  While 
matters  were  getting  ready,  I  told  them  that  Lord  Bathurst 
was  not  the  proper  person  to  address,  for  he  might  not  have 
time  to  attend  to  their  business,  that  it  should  be  Mr.  Horton, 
adding, 

"  It  will  require  all  your  Indian  fortitude  to  do  what  I  con- 
ceive must  be  done.  Mr.  Horton  is  one  of  the  best  men  liv- 
ing, but  his  mind  is  sullied  with  official  rules  and  maxims, 
and  the  other  trash  of  files  and  precedents,  which  impair  to 
himself  its  native  purity.  He  believes  he  can  think  ill  of 
others,  because  he  is  naturally  ingenuous,  but  he  is  mistaken, 
and  the  only  way  of  getting  his  good  will  is  to  put  him  in  a 
passion,  irt  which  he  will  probably  be  very  outrageous,  but 
his  paroxysm  will  be  succeeded  by  contrition,  in  which  ho 
will  think  that  he  has  used  you  ten  times  worse  in  his  anger 
than  even  he  can  do.  Now  I  will  write  you  a  letter  nominally 
to  Earl  Bathurst,  but  really  to  him,  which,  without  contain- 
ing one  word  that  an  Indian  might  not  say,  will  be  so  contrary 
to  all  etiquette,  that  it  will  make  him  dancing  mad." 

Accordingly,  drawing  the  materials  towards  me,  I  scrawled 
a  proper  tomahawk  epistle  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  tel- 


196 


THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


]ing  him  th&t  he  had  no  business  with  what  they  did  with  their 
lands,  and  that  by  all  law,  Indian  as  well  as  European,  if 
the  king  had  not  the  Indian  lands  when  he  granted  them  to 
the  S?x  Nations,  he  was  bound  whf  n  he  did  acquire  them  to 
fulfil  his  grant.  This  allusion  was  made,  as  it  had  been  sta- 
ted as  an  argument  to  curtail  the  grant,  that  the  lands  of 
the  Six  Nations  had  not  been  purchased  at  the  time  from 
the  natives.  This  curious  letter  I  presume  is  still  in  the  Colo- 
nial Office. 

Branl  made  a  copy  of  it,  and  it  was  delivered  in.  Soon  af- 
ter Mr.  Horton  was,  as  may  be  supposed  by  those  who  know 
him,  neither  to  bind  nor  to  hold  at  receiving  such  an  impro- 
per document,  and  forbade  the  deputies  the  office,  from 
which  they  came  tome  very  much  ("isooncerted. 

The  machination  was  however  working  to  effect,  and  1  ad- 
vised them  to  go  to  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  and  tell  him 
what  had  happened  in  consequence  of  their  letter,  and  to 
beg  his  aid. 

The  Duke  was  disturbed  at  their  story;  with  faithful  ad- 
herence, however,  to  his  promise,  ^ind  evincing  the  correctness 
of  the  Indian's  remark  on  his  sincerity,  he  sent  down  Colonel 
Thomas  Talbot,  of  the  Talbot  settlement,  the  brother  of  Lord 
Malahide,  to  smooth  down  the  official  back  of  Mr.  Horton; 
and  in  the  long  run,  by  the  interposition  of  his  Grace,  all  con- 
troversy between  the  Indians  and  the  Colonial  Office  was 
peacefully  appeased.  Tht^y  returned  to  America  with  the  as- 
surance that  their  charter  lor  his  Majesty's  grant  of  land 
would  be  made  out. 

Brant,  who  was  my  next  neighbour  when  1  was  in  Canada, 
and  frequently  at  my  house,  told  me  that  at  the  council  of 
their  nation,  when  the  tomahawk  epistle  was  read,  all  the 
assembled  chiefs  gave  a  particular  solemn  nod  of  approbation.; 
each  like  Jupiter  in  the  Iliad, 


"  Shook  in  bis  ambrosial  curlH  and  gave  the  ood.'* 

But  to  return  to  my  own  narrative. 


JOHN   OALT. 


197 


their 
!an,  if 
em  to 
em  to 
n  sta- 
nds of 
3  from 
!  Colo- 
yon   af- 

know 

impro- 

L,   from 

id  X  ad- 

;ll  him 

and  to 

hful  ad- 
rectness 
Colonel 

of  Lord 
llorton  ; 

all  con- 
Bee  was 
1  the  as- 

of  land 

Canada, 
Duncil  of. 
all   the 
■obat  ioa ; 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Courtesy  of  the  Colonial  department.  Party  spirit  in  Cana- 
da. The  secret  resolutions  of  the  Commissioners.  Char- 
acter of  correspondence.  Origin  of  the  Canada  Company. 
My  case. 

With  the  exception  of  the  strang-e  difference  between  the 
copy  sent  to  me  of  EarlBathurst's  dispatch,  and  that  in  the  Ga- 
zette extraordinary  published  in  Upper  Canada,  there  was  no- 
thing in  the  advocacy  of  the  claims  remarkable.  Delay  was 
unavoidable,  and  perhaps  it  assumed  sometimes  the  appearance 
of  procrastination,  but  I  am  perfectly  convinced,  that  when 
it  did  so  it  was  purely  accidental.  This  much  it  is  but  right 
to  state ;  for  although  I  was  never  engaged  in  a  more  unsat- 
isfactory business,  it  is  but  common  justice  to  admit,  that  in 
the  Secretary  of  State's  office,  I  found  every  courtesy,  even 
in  circumstances  where  the  nature  of  my  correspondence  was 
such,  that  I  could  not  myself  have  endured  it. 

At  that  time  I  was  not  aware  of  the  virulence  of  party 
spirit  in  Canada.  Never  being  a  political  man,  the  dissen- 
sions there  did  not  attract  my  attention ;  I  looked  on  them  in 
some  sort  as  borough  squabbles,  at  most  as  a  puddle  in  a 
storm.  But  it  seems  that  party  feeling  was  allowed  a  pre- 
dominance in  the  matter  of  the  claims  highly  reprehensi- 
ble. One  day,  in  Ix>rd  Bexley's  library  in  Downing  Street, 
when  the  papers  of  the  claims'  commissioners  were  produced, 
I  observed  accidentally,  with  tacit  indescribable  amazement, 
that  among  the  rules  of  decision  which  the  commissioners  pre- 
scribed for  themselves,  was  one,  I  think  the  tenth,  in  which 
they  agreed  that  the  claims  of  persons  suspected  in  their  po- 
litical principles  should  be  rejected.  Such  an  atrocious  deter- 
mination, amounting  to  a  forfeiture  of  goods,  or  a  fine  withou 

trial,  wa9  so  repugnant  to  my  notions  of  British  justice,  tha 

R  2 


196 


THE  AVTOBIOORAPRY  OP 


it  left  a  deep  impression,  not  in  favour  of  the  provincial  au- 
thorities. 

Afterwards  the  letters  of  my  correspondent  added  to  this 
stem  sentiment.  They  overflowed  with  observations  which 
the  rule  laid  down  by  the  commissioners  seemed  to  justify 
and  in  consequence,  as  it  was  my  duty  as  an  agent  to  repre- 
sent what  was  said  to  me  to  the  colonial  office,  I  was  obliged 
to  frame  my  letters  accordingly.  This  I  did  in  as  mitigated 
terms  as  I  could,  but  still  strongly  to  the  detriment  of  the  pro- 
vincial authorities;  of  them  personally  I  know  nothing,  nor 
was  I  aware  of  the  enmity  which  political  difi'erences  had  en- 
gendered. At  last  my  remarks  drew  from  Mr.  Horton  an  ani- 
madversion on  my  insinuations.  I  had  been  sensible  myself 
of  their  nature  and  wondered  why  they  were  allowed  but 
his  complaint  was  decisive.  A  letter  full  of  vituperation  had 
been  lately  received  by  me  from  Upper  Canada.  I  obliterated 
the  name,  and  sent  it,  with  all  tlie  post  marks,  privately  to 
Mr.  Horton,  trusting  to  his  honour  as  a  gentleman,  that  af- 
ter reading  it  he  would  return  it  to  me,  and  acquit  me  individ- 
ually of  the  imputation  of  addressing  the  colonial  depart- 
ment unguardedly,  though  my  duty  required  me  to  make 
harsh  accusations.  He  returned  the  letter,  and  I  believed  was 
satisfied  I  acted  only  as  the  organ  of  others,  and  I  had  ra- 
ther softened  than  hardened  the  communications  I  was  com- 
pelled to  make. 

This  statement  is  necessary,  though  it  may  appear  at  first 
sight,  making  rather  too  much  a  matter  of  private  business, 
but  without  disclosures  which  have  the  air  of  being  extraordi- 
nary, it  will  not  be  doing  justice  to  the  reader,  either  to 
think  he  can  rightly  understand  many  things  to  be  developed, 
or  properly  appreciate  the  difficulties  I  had  to  encounter,  and 
for  which  some  degree  of  sympathy  is  expected.  Had  I  poa- 
•essed  the  good  fortune  of  a  friend  to  have  seconded  my  endeav- 
ours, the  result  might  have  been  different ;  however,  it  is  on- 
ly what  it  has  been,  that  is  to  be  described,  and  if  consideration 
for  myself  is  not  obtained,  there  is  now  no  help  for  it;  my  ob* 
ject  is  to  deliver  a  plain,  imvamished  tale,  and  if  it  do  not  en- 


JOHN  OALT. 


1U9 


title  me  to  put  forth  the  pretension  of  having  encountered 
obstacles  of  no  ordinary  kind,  I  can  only  reckon  this  anticipa- 
tion among  the  other  fallacies  to  which  I  have  been  inured. 

After  my  return  from  England,  I  was  just  beginning  to 
resume  the  habits  into  which,  with  something  like  weariness, 
I  had  composed  myself,  when  an  unprovided  for  occurrence 
compelled  me  again  to  become  an  adventurer.  As  it  is  always 
with  reluctance  that  I  broach  upon  any  domestic  topic,  I  may 
be  pardoned  for  saying  I  saw  before  me  no  alternative  but  to 
return  to  London.  Accordingly  I  prepared  for  that  object  with 
all  the  equanimity  I  could  muster. 

In  the  mean  time,  Bishop  Macdonell  of  Upper  Canada,  vis- 
ited me,  and  in  the  day  he  spent  at  Eskgrove  gave  me  all  the 
information  I  required  respecting  the  crown  and  clergy  re- 
serves of  the  Canadas.  From  tiiis  circumstance  the  Canada 
Company  was  ultimately  formed,  but  as  I  have  drawn  up  a  nar- 
rative of  its  history  as  correct  as  my  recollection  could  furnish« 
in  the  year  1830,  I  shall  quote  the  case  here.  It  was  intend- 
ed as  a  ground  of  petition  for  remuneration,  and  was  submitted 
to  some  of  the  shrewdest  men  in  this  country,  who  thought  the 
claim  well  founded,  but  when  afterwards  laid  before  the  Earl 
ot  Ripon,  then  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colonies,  with  a  view 
to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  crown  to  the  object  of  my  petition, 
his  Lordship  thought  the  claim  inadmissible ;  as  however  he 
assigned  no  reason,  I  am  not  content  with  his  decision,  though 
I  have  submitted  to  it,  in  the  mean  time,  by  not  proceeding  to 
Parliament;  indeed,  what  avails  it  troubling  friends,  when  the 
crown  withholds  the  preliminary  sanction. 

Perhaps,  in  some  respects,  instead  of  giving  the  case,  I  ought 
to  have  re-written  the  narrative  here,  but  it  is  more  conclusive 
to  state  what  I  intended  to  lay  before  Parliament,  because,  as 
the  matter  was  drawn  up  with  the  hope  of  investigation,  I 
am  not  aware  that  a  better  course  could  be  adopted,  especially 
M  I  still  think  that,  in  the  declaration  of  inadmissibility,  I 
have  but  received  "  scrimp  justice."  I  beg,  however,  not  to  be 
misunderstood,  I  do  not  complain  of  any  ill-usage,  but  merely 
that  my  case  has  not  been  investigated.    If  it  had  turned  out 


200 


THB  AUTOBIOORAPHT  OF 


that  I  was  entitled  to  no  brokerage,  or  commission  on  the  sale 
effected,  or  the  money  put  into  the  coffers  of  the  empire,  then 
I  would  have  submitted  becomingly  to  the  award ;  but  the 
mere  arbitrary  refusal  of  a  minister,  as  it  appears,  is  not  suffi- 
cient, in  my  opinion,  to  extinguish  legitimate  charges  against 
transactions  indisputably  of  national  benefit  and  authorized.*" 

*  Arter  thiB  follows  a  petition  to  Parliniiient  by  Mr.  Gait,"  for  remunera* 
tion  tVoin  iiin  IVi.ijei^ty'HGoverniiient  tor  eeliiiig  ceriiiio  Crown  Lands  in  Up- 
per Canada."  It  will  be  lenitniliered  ilutt  Ue  clninn  (i  (H)niinie>8ioii  as  nsent  for 
tlie  inlmbitiiiits  of  Canada,  forwliose  bt  hoof  certain  Crown  lauds  were  sold. 
Ttie  Bta'e  ol  ilio  case  is  well  sunnncd  up  in  tlie  concluding  paitnf  tlie  peil' 
tioH  which  i^jall  that  wc  deem  necessary  to  lay  before  our  readers. — Ed. 

To  conclude,  it  ninst  l)e  mnnifoat, 

First,  Tlial  the  ptttitioner  was  actuated  throughout  the  wliole  business,  until 
the  [Canada]  Company  was  formed,  by  an  expfxtHtiontiial  tlie  money  to  be 
obtained  from  the  sale  of  the  lands  would  be  appropriated  to  tlie  liquidation  of 
the  claims  ot  hiscon.stituents. 

Secondly,  That  the  destination  of  the  money  to  another  purpose,  while  he 
was  enijaged  in  attempting  to  etfect  the  sale,  oucht  at  least  lo  have  been  com- 
nninicated  lo  him  ;  for  it  cannot  be  alleged  that  a  Secretary  of  State  has  the 
right  to  tax  any  man's  time,  labour,  and  ingenuity,  without  his  consent. 

Third,  Tlint  the  petitioner  was  requetited  in  writing  by  Earl  Baihurst  to 
furuisli  a  plait  of  sale,  which  he  did;  that  lie  was  verbally  requested  by  the 
Under  Secretary  of  Sate  to  try  if  purchasers  could  be  found,  ;  that,  in  proof 
of  this,  until  piiich&sers  were  found  the  Secretary  of  State  was  officially 
consulted  before  any  one  point  vas  determined  with  the  merchants;  and 
that  even  the  prospectus  upon  which  the  money  was  to  be  raised,  was  not 
permitted  to  be  issued  until  it  had  received  the  correction  and  approbation  of 
Earl  Bathurst  by  Mr.  VVihuot  llorton;  — all  circumstances  of  the  common 
kind  which  take  place  between  a  broker  and  a  seller. 

Fourth,  That  a  service  was  performed,— the  sale  of  two  million  three  hun- 
dred and  eighty-four  thousand  four  hundred  and  thirteen  acr<s  for  three  hun- 
dred and  forty  eight  tiiuu:$and  si.v  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  four  shillings 
and  sixpeiice,  thus  :— 

Crown  Reserves,  1,384,113  acres,  at  3«.  M.  41342,272    5    6 
1,000,000  acres  in  lieu  of  Clergy  Reserves, 
wliich   could'  nor  be  sold  for  the  eauie 
amount  of  purchase-money  145,150    5    0 

Currency  of  Upper  Canada    jC387,423   lU    6 

Sterling    i;:l48,680    4    6 

Of  this  sum  sixty-five  thousand  pounds  have  been  ac-tually  paid  as  foU 
Iowa : — 

Inlheyearending  July  1827  £20,000  0  0 
In  lh«  year  ending  July  IH->8  15,(100  0  U 
In  the  year  ending  July  1829  ]5,(;00  0  0 
In  the  year  ending  July  1830       15,000    0    0 

£65,000    0    0 

And  the  balance  ispayahle  as  rollnws:— in  1631,  £16,000;  in  1832,  £17,000 
in  iai3, 18,000/;  in  1834  19,000/;  and  20,000/ yearly  theieafter  until  the  whol« 
ifl  paid. 

Tkb  Qobstion  therefore  is,— has  the  Petitioner  any  light  to  expect  re- 
muneration for  having  suggested  the  plan  of  sale,  and  accomplished  all  that  ht 
wac  reauested  to  do,  sanctioned  and  directed,  as  lie  was.  in  every  step  and 
stage  01  the  proceedings  by  tlie  Secretary  of  State  t 


JOHN   GALT. 


201 


To  this  case  were  appended  several  letters  which  are  in  the 
Appendix,  because  it  appeared  to  myself,  that,  possibly,  these 
letters  might  be  regarded  as  affording  a  ground  for  supposing 
that  I  was  not  acting  in  the  service  of  Government,  notwith- 
standing the  evidence  which  showed  that  I  was  as  much  em- 
ployed in  what  was  done,  as  any  broker  or  agent  is  in  the  city 
employed  and  authorized  for  the  sale  of  articles  which  he  ef- 
fects, and  for  which  he  claims,  and  is  paid,  his  brokerage  or 
commission.* 


*  Mr.  Oalf  conleiided  In  liia  petition  fbnt  liis  bpineeU'ctod  Pecrf tary  to 
tliR  Canada  t'nnipaiiy,  did  not  l«'ssfn  Ins  rlaiins  on  llie  GcvtinnuMii  lor  fnrnier 
pervicesas  ajK^nt  for  ilif  iiilial)itani8  of  the  I'rnviiice  cIniniiKg  coni|'^»!^'Hiion 
for  losses — the  more  ?n  as  ho  acted  tii  ronfomiiiy  with  tlie  wishes  of  the 
Government,  and  as  u  luud  of  recognised  hroiiur  iMUween  the  paiiieB.— Epit. 


5    6 


202 


TUB  AIJTOCIOORAPHY  OP 


EPOCH  FIFTH 


CHAPTER  1. 

The  Canada  Company.  Original  view.  Embark  in  the 
Romney  man-of-war.  Journey  through  the  State  of  New- 
York.  Civilities  of  the  Americans.  Reach  Upper  Can- 
ada. 

The  Canada  Company,  although  I  have  to  deplore  my  con- 
nection with  it,  is  an  institution  which  only  calamity  can  pre- 
vent from  obtaining  great  prosperity.  It  was  not,  however, 
my  original  intention  to  have  any  thing  further  to  do  with  it, 
than  to  provide  the  means  for  the  payment  of  my  principals, 
and  to  resume  my  position  in  Scotland ;  but  when  the  govern- 
ment destined  the  money  to  other  objects  than  that  which  in- 
duced me  to  take  so  much  trouble,  I  was  persuaded  to  unite 
myself  with  the  Company. 

For  the  business,  I  was,  perhaps,  not  unqualified,  for  the  set- 
tlement of  colonies  had  been  with  me  long  an  object  of  study, 
in  which,  without  being  able  to  assign  any  reason  for  the  bias, 
I  had  from  boyhood  ever  a  hankering. 

When  the  arrangements  were  completed,  and  the  capital 
of  the  company  raised,  the  Romney  man-of-war  was  appoint- 
ed to  convey  the  commissioners,  for  determining  the  valuq  of 
the  land,  to  New  York.  Some  preparations  were,  however,  ne- 
cessary before  she  could  sail,  and  we  were  delayed  in  conse- 
quence several  days  at  Plymouth.  I  shall  ever  remember 
our  stay  there  with  great  pleasure,  and  particularly  the  hospi- 
talities of  Lord  De  Saumarez,  who  was  then  port  admiral.  I 
had,  however,  an  individual  reason  for  being  delighted  with 
Plymouth,  particularly  in  seeing  and  being  upon  tlie  break- 
water ;  for  I  happened  long  ago  to  be  dining  with  Mr.  Ren- 


JOHN  OALT. 


203 


nie,  the  engineer,  on  the  day  it  was  agreed  to  erect  it,  and 
the  incident  is  impressed  upon  my  memory  by  an  odd  circum- 
stance. At  dinner  we  had  a  hare  served  which  had  been 
caught  in  the  bottom  of  the  London  Docks  by  the  workmen, 
and  sent  to  him.  The  incident  intereKted  my  ftincy,  and  next 
morning  I  sent  to  Mr.  Rennie  tiie  following  impromptu,  sug- 
gested by  the  occasion. 

IMPROMPTU. 

Wlieii  time  iimtortid  the  pKiii  of  fiUe, 
ThiUgiiVe  iiii)>eri!il  RoHie  lior  d;Ue, 
Dtjvoiiriiig  V  illiire.s  hovetiiig  caint;, 
All  omen  of  her  warlikt;  fame  ; 
But  signs  of  other  a^^|lt'cl  shew 
What  Jove  will  on  your  work  bestow. 
Yea,  when  he  bade  the  timid  iiare 
A«tonislied  to  the  dockH  repair, 
The  sign  propiiious  proved  it  plain, 
The  coyest  commerce  of  the  main 
Bhonlil  wondering  there  be  (bund  nt  last, 
To  aid  Urilannia'8  licii  repast. 

In  due  tune  we  sailed.  In  the  course  of  the  voyage  I  recol- 
lect only  two  occurrences,  one  of  them  exceedingly  ridiculous, 
and  the  other  a  natural  fact,  worthy  of  serious  investigation. 
What  I  allude  to  in  the  first  place,  arose  from  the  ship  being 
new,  and  being  under-rigged,  had  a  practice  of  rolling.  One 
night  a  gun  got  loose  in  my  cabin,  and  I  lay  in  my  cot,  not  ven- 
turing to  get  out  for  dread  of  the  gun,  raging  like  a  bandit  in  a 
rnelo-drama ;  it  was  some  time  before  it  could  be  fastened. — 
The  other  incident  was  a  sort  of  natural  mystery.  Before 
reaching  the  American  coast,  or  being  within  soundings,  the 
water  of  the  ocean  became  suddenly  warm,  above  70°  one  day 
before  dinner.  It  occurred  to  me  that  we  might  be  approach- 
ing the  land,  and  accordingly  I  predicted  we  should  soon  be  in 
soundings.  This  was  a  lucky  hit  of  sagacity,  for  while  we 
were  at  dmner  the  lieutenant  of  the  watch  reported  that  we 
had  reached  soundings.* 

Some  of  the  commissioners,  of  whom  I  was  one,  got  on  board 


•  The  sage  conclusion,  which  Mr.  Gait  refers  "  to  a  hicky  hit  of  sagacity ," 
would  be  reached  by  uiiy  persou  who  had  ever  crossed  the  Atlantic:  bat  not 


201 


THE  AUTODIOORAPHY  Of 


a  pilot-boat  at  Sandy-Hook,  and  made  the  best  of  our  way  to 
New  York  in  a  waggon,  across  Long  Island  to  Brooklyn. — We 
immediately  went  to  an  hotel,  and  spent  an  evening,  of  which 
the  contrast  of  a  long  voyage  certainly  augmented  tlie  plcasura 
Next  afternoon  we  embarked  in  a  steam-boat  for  Albany, 
and  I  take  this  opportunity  of  mentioning  a  very  hospitable 
circumstance  that  might  be  judiciously  imitated  elsewhere. — 
The  customhouse  officers  passed  our  luggage  without  examina- 
tion, and  in  fact  every  facility  was  given  to  us  that  could  possibly 
be  desired. 

In  sailing  up  the  Hudson  to  Albany  I  met  with  an  agreea- 
ble incident.  My  travelling  habits  and  a  disposition  to  inquire 
the  characters  of  those  around,  induced  me  to  take  my  place 
at  the  public  supper-table.  The  other  commissioners '^  kept 
their  state"  in  another  cabin,  which  the  captain  assigned  to 
them  with  due  respect  to  their  national  prejudices.  My  seat  at 
the  public  table  turned  out  most  fortunate.  A  gentleman  sat 
down  beside  me  whom  in  tlie  course  of  conversation  I  found 
was  a  Colonel  Hamilton,  l^ie  son  of  the  celebrated  general  of 
that  name,  the  friend  of  General  Washington,  and  the  same 
who  was  shot  in  a  duel  with  Burgh. 

I  hod  been  at  school  with  two  of  his  relations,  one  of  them 
Mr.  Walter  Hamilton,  the  author  of  the  Indian  Gazetteer,  so 
that  a  sort  of  intimacy  was  at  once  formed,  especially  as  it  was 
in  my  power  to  give  him  some  account  of  his  family,  at 
Grange,  in  Ayrshire,  tie  made  me  acquainted  with  the  cha- 
racters of  many  of  his  father's  friends ;  he  had  himself  been 
with  tlie  Duke  of  Wellington  in  the  Peninsula,  and  had  seen 
a  good  deal  of  the  world  to  supply  agreeable  topics  of  conversa- 
tion. 

In  co^equence  of  meeting  this  gentlemen  I  resolved  to  stop 
a  few  days  at  Albany ;  ray  colleagues.  Colonel  Cockburn,  the 
present  governor   of  Honduras,  and  Sir  John  Harvey,  went 

on  the  datum  aasiimeii  by  Mr.  Q.  This  suddenly  elevated  temperature  df  ttit 
water  of  ili«  oceaa,  shows  that  the  ship  U  in  the  Gulf  Stream^  and  of  conse- 
querict)  that  ere  long,  if  she  preserve  her  westerly  euurtie,  Khe  will  soon  be  in 
■oundliii^s  The  upprnnch  to  soundings  i.s  evinced  by  a  diminishrd  tempera- 
tuie  of  the  water,  and  on  this  account  a  th^riuuuieter  u  uo  bad  prvcursar 
aud  cuuipautuu  to  the  lead.— EoiToa. 


JOHN    (JALT. 


203 


straight  an  to  Yorlc,  and  Mr.  M'Giilivray  and  Mr.  Daviduou 
the  other  commiiMioners,  proceeded  to  Lower  Canada.  The 
legislature  was  sitting,  and  in  both  iiouses  I  was  allowed  a  seat 
witliin  the  bar.  While  in  the  upper  house  Burgh  happened  to 
come  in  and  passed  quite  close  to  Colonel  Hamilton ;  but  I 
remarked  he  was  not  noticed.,  and  had  something  of  a  blighted 
appearance.  In  the  course  c>  the  day  I  received  an  invitation 
to  dine  with  the  governor  of  the  State,  the  celebrated  De  Witt 
Clinton,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter.  The  dinner  party  was  nu- 
merous and  gentlemanly.  Tlie  chancellor,  and  some  of  the 
Judges,  with  the  leading  members  of  tlie  bur,  and  the  most  emi- 
nent characters  in  the  legislature  were  there.  The  impression 
of  the  company  was  much  superior  to  what  I  expected.  In 
Mrs.  Clinton  I  met  with  a  woman  of  great  energy  ;  she  was  a 
very  Madame  Roland,  with  many  original  traits  of  character. 
In  one  characteristic  she  had  an  instantaneous  claim  on  my 
respect,  for  in  appearance  she  much  resembled  what  I  recol- 
lected of  my  own  mother,  and  singularly  enough  was  dressed 
exactly  in  the  same  style ;  the  resemblance  was  increased  by 
the  same  straight  forward  shrewdness.  I  sat  on  her  right 
hand,  but  nothing  occurred  to  sho  w  that  she  possessed  equal 
humour  to  my  mother,  certainly  not  that  grotesque  sort  of 
phraseology,  which,  in  her,  was  almost  equal  to  wit.  Mrs. 
Clinton,  or  Lady  Clinton,  as  siie  was  called  by  the  common 
people,  was  a  shade  graver.  I  owed  the  cordiality  of  her 
treatment  to  an  impression  which  had  been  produced  by  the 
*♦  Annals  of  the  Parisli."  g 

Next  day  I  had  another  sort  of  entertainment  that  to  me 
was  still  more  racy.  Among  my  letters  I  had  one  from  Mr. 
Ellice  to  a  Mr,  Baron  Blucher,  an  old  friend  of  his  fathers',  of 
Dutch  origin.  The  appearance  of  tliis  antique  gentleman  was 
■exceedingly  prepossessing  and  primitive.  He  invited  me  to 
dinner,  and  told  me  that  his  hour  was  one  o'clock,  but  he  would 
make  it  three  to  give  me  more  leisure.  All  aboat  him  seem- 
ed like  a  vision  of  antiquity.  The  wine  glasses  were  tall  and 
very  old-fashioned,  like  those  that  may  be  seen  in  the  picture 
■of  the  burgomasters  in  the  Stadthouse  of  Amsterdam.  They 
had  long  stalks,  with  a  white  v.onu,  of  a  screw  form,  within, 


206 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF 


i 


and  I  am  quite  sure  I  do  not  greatly  overstep  the  truth  when  I 
say  that  thr  whole  apparatus  of  the  table  was  at  least  as  anci- 
ent as  American  liberty.  His  manners  and  sedate  shrewdness 
were  also  of  "  the  olden  time,"  and  I  have  often  since  wished 
that  I  could  have  an  opportunity  of  describing  at  more  lengtli 
such  a  respectable  specimen  of  the  past. 

Among  my  excursions  from  Albany,  Colonel  Hamilton  bor- 
rowed a  carriage  from  some  of  his  connexions  and  took  me  to 
iiee  the  falls  of  Cahoes,  on  the  Mohawk  river,  the  next  catar- 
act 'in  size  to  the  Falls  of  Niagara:  We  then  crossed  the  river 
by  a  covered  bridge,  and  went  to  the  thriving  town  of  Troy,  in 
vvhicli  I  could  see  nothing  classical;  but  we  were  ferried 
across  to  the  Albany  side  in  a  team-boat,  tiiat  is  to  say,  a  boat 
with  wheel  paddles  like  a  steam-boat,  but  driven  by  horses.* 

Having  satisfied  myself  with  Albany,  I  proceeded  on  my 
route  to  Upper  Canada,  and  in  the  course  of  the  journey  fell  in 
with  a  countryman,  to  whose  communicative  intelligence  I 
consider  myself  greatly  indebted.  I  dined  with  hun  inCananda- 
gua,  and  afterwards  made  the  best  of  my  way  to  BufFaloe,  and 
thence  to  Black  Rock,  where  I  was  very  kindly  treated  by 
General  Porter,  who,  I  believe,  was  afterwards  American 
Secretary-at-war.  I  was  there  among  friends ;  for  it  happened 
that  the  death  of  a  relation  in  Virginia  was  at  the  time  in  the 
papers,  and  Mrs.'  Porter  had  been  particularly  acquainted  with 
him. 

From  Black  Rock  I jaroqpeded  to  Manchester,  at  the  Falls 
of  Niagara,  the  ice  in^he  river  prevented  me  from  crossing- 
By  the  time  I  got  to  Manchester,  the  weather  grew  very  cold, 

*  Team-boats  are  very  ancient,  and  their  paddle*w!ieel8  are  the  models 
t'lom  which  those  of  ihe  eteam  boat  are  taken.  Mr.  V^illiam  Symington,  in 
ills  demonstration  of  his  father  being  the  inventor  of  steam  boats  now  of  such 
iucalculable  benetit  in  navigation,  mentions  that  the  substitution  of  wheels  for 
oars  is  as  old  as  ttie  lime  of  the  Romans,  and  quotes  from  Witscn's  Treatiiie 
on  Shipbuilding,  published  at  Amsterdam  in  1G3I,  a  drawing  of  a  vcsisel 
propelled  by  paddle-wheels  turnrd  by  oxen.  But  the  invention  is  much  older  ; 
for  a  Professor  of  Padua,  is  stated  to  have  seen  in  1587  an  ancient  bas-relief, 
which  represented  a  galley  wiih  three  wtteels  aside,  turned  by  three  pair  of 
nzen ;  and  Vulterius  who  live-^  in  tlie  fifteenth  century,  shows  ttiat  the  inven 
tion  was  anterior  to  his  time.  I  iiave  been  told  by  an  acquaintance,  that  he 
Haw  on  one  of  the  rivers  on  tiie  we.atside  of  Hindostan,  a  vessel  propelled  by 
paddle-wheels,  set  a  goini;  by  some  sort  of  machinery  like  the  tread  mill,  and 
I  HAW  myself,  on  the  liver  Detroit,  a  small  boat  with  paddle-wheels,  which  the 
Minn  at  I'h^  helm  made  to  tuin  round  by  a  pair  of  treadles  under  his  feet,  after 
th«  launnor  of  a  spinning  wheel. 


JOHN  GALT. 


207 


and  I  was  exceedingly  unwell  with  the  varioloid,  a  disease 
that  did  not  leave  me  for  upwards  of  twelve  months.  It  was 
sunset  when  we  reached  Manchester,  and  as  the  fire  in  the 
hotel  was  very  invitmg,  my  disposition  did  not  incline,  at  the 
time,  to  go  abroad,  so  I  sent  my  servant  to  look  at  the  Falls 
with  orders  to  come  back  and  tell  me  what  they  were  like, 
and  if  it  were  worth  my  while  to  go  and  look  at  them.  No 
doubt  the  lad's  downright  character  had  some  influence  in 
making  me  give  this  ludicrous  order,  but  his  answer  when  he 
returned  was  beyond  expectation.  "  It  is  a  very  cold  night," 
said  he,  "  and  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  great  tumbling 
of  waters,"  advising  me  at  the  same  time  not  to  go  abroad  that 
night.  ., 

Thus  it  came  to  pass,  that  although  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  I  was  induced  not  to  visit  them,  nor 
did  I  during  my  first  journey  to  America.  In  the  course  of 
about  a  mile  or  two  below  the  cataract,  a  turn  in  the  road 
gave  me  a  view  of  them,  which  I  think  was  the  same  I  saw 
long  ago  in  the  picture  at  Kilmarnock. 

From  the  Falls,  I  proceeded  down  the  American  side  of  the 
river  to  Louistown,  where  I  hired  a  schooner  to  go  across 
Lake  Ontario,  and  after  a  very  rough  and  stormy  passage 
reached  York,  the  capital  of  Upper  Canada,  where  Colonel 
Cockburn  and  Sir  John  Harvey  had  arrived? 


w 


pi 


tfim 


J' 


